Tales of the Mitsurugi Dragon: Shadow of Shadows
by Hitokiri Gentatsu
Summary: {Chapter Nine uploaded 5/3}The tale of one of pure heart lost in the chaos of war.
1. Default Chapter

Tales of the Mitsurugi Dragon

Part One: Shadow of Shadows

By: Hitokiri Gentatsu

Summary: A look at the life of the young hitokiri. This story was one that was shelved while I was working on the second wandering years story. I do not own the characters and, having no money, you would not get any from me anyway. 

Prologue: Kyoto, Spring 1864

" If there is a new world that can be created by my sword, a world where anyone can live peacefully and without fear… If my arm can create that world…I will serve as Heaven's Justice. I will kill."

Himura Kenshin

Tsuioku Hen

The sun was setting, washing the western sky in a myriad of pinks, purples and reds and the birds were just beginning to settle down for the night, calling to one another as if seeking comfort in the knowledge that another of their species was nearby during this time of turmoil. The crickets had begun to chirp their nightly song, some loud and some barely a whisper. The light wind stirred the trees and caused a few plum blossoms to fall from them in a shower of petals that had a ghostly quality to them in the failing light. The wind was heavy with their sweet scent and with the scent of wood smoke. Near the river, the water lapped quietly, almost imperceptively, against the shore and against the supports of the bridge on which a boy stood.

He was leaning against the railing, his head bowed and the fall of his hair hiding his features from the few people who were still out this close to nightfall. The boy looked down at the water, which was a sparkling sheet of red-gold in the light of the setting sun, almost mesmerized by its dancing glow. He stared down at his own wavering reflection in the water far below him, the setting sun making it appear as if his red hair was aflame. The wind whipped his high ponytail into his face and his long bangs tickled his pale cheeks. He brushed the hair away from his face with a trace of annoyance, his eyes still trained on the shimmering water below him, as if lost in the memory of another time and place.

--There were two things Kenshin loved most of all about his master's home on the mountain: the expanse of forest that was near the river that he fetched water from daily and the waterfall where he was training in the Hiten Mitsurugi Ryuu. Nothing in all of Japan, Kenshin felt, could ever compare with the sheer beauty and majesty of those two places. Nothing, that is, except for his mother's smiling face and the laughing eyes of his sister, neither of which he had not seen since his parents had died some years before of cholera and his sister vanished without a trace. 

His Shishou, Hiko Seijuro, the thirteenth master of the Hiten Mitsurugi Ryuu, was an exacting man who expected much from his young charge but Kenshin didn't mind because his father had been much the same. Hiko was also a man who demanded perfection in everything that was done, from the way a sword was swung in practice to the taste of his sake but Kenshin could find no fault with the normally overbearing man, at least not today. Today had been one of those all too rare occasions were Kenshin was given a break from his training so that he could spend an entire day doing as he chose. Hiko believed this would make him more self-sufficient and had, on several occasions, already left him to his own devices while he dealt with problems in the village. 

Kenshin's skinny legs dangled from the branch of a tall maple and they were swinging in time with the music of the nearby falls. He had just finished eating some fish he had caught and was now lying contentedly across a wide, shelf-like branch, watching the sunset reflected in the water and listening to the music of the nearby waterfall. The sun's light glistened on the waters below him, staining the water crimson and gold.--

The boy on the bridge blinked his eyes at the memory and turned away from the river, a dull ache in his heart for the place he had left behind to come to this city of bloodshed and death. His right hand clinched into a fist, while his left strayed to the two swords he wore. His hand gripped the smooth wood of his katana's saya and he felt somewhat comforted by the presence of the sword his master had given him.

"Six months…" he whispered to no one. Had it really been that long since he last saw his master? Since he had last listened to the waterfall? Since he had used his real name, Himura Kenshin? Since he had been an innocent child?

Six months ago he had left Hiko's mountain to join other samurai who were going off to war, saying that he could no longer stand by while the innocent people of Japan suffered at the hands of the tyrannical Shogunate. His master had been angry and bitter but he had let Kenshin leave to follow his own heart. Within a week of his departure, his skill with a sword had gotten him recruited by Katsura Kogoro to serve as the Choshu clan's prime hitokiri, the one chosen to bring down Heaven's Justice on their enemies. He was also given the rank of samurai and had, within a month, earned the title Battousai, because it was apparent that, despite his young age, he knew far more about battoujutsu than anyone else they had ever seen. No one in the Choshu camp knew what sword technique the newest member of the clan used or even where he had come from, but they did know one thing for absolute certain: with him on their side they were assured of victory. It seemed as if the heavens themselves were sanctioning their actions against the Shogunate by bringing this mysterious and god gifted young swordsman to them in their time of greatest need.

The wind picked up slightly and it blew around him, tugging at his hair and dark clothing but he ignored it. He turned his head and watched the sun continue to dip ever lower in the western sky. A bell rang out the hour over the rapidly silencing city, as people scurried home in the dying light of the sun. Battousai sighed as he watched the sun sink below the mountains, his hand shading his face from its glow. As he lowered his arm, he heard a faint rustling sound and remembered why he was out in the first place.

"Six months… and still the streets run with blood and the slaughter continues." he thought again as he drew a black envelope from one his inner pockets of his sleeves with a frown.

For the past six months he had been receiving the missives of death and still, every time he saw one, his heart felt sick at the thought of another death by his hand. Whenever a black envelope came to him it meant certain death to whoever was named therein as the sword of the hitokiri claimed another life. The Hitokiri Battousai let no one escape once his superiors had marked them for death, he could not afford to or his life was forfeit. All he could do was to try and make sure the death he dealt was quick and painless because it was the only kindness he could offer his victims: that and an unvoiced prayer to the gods for the happiness of their souls. Yet, he knew that what he was being asked to do was nothing more then murder and that he was know better than a common murderer, even if it was in order to protect the lives of others and to build a peaceful world. Hiko's words about how evil men were still human beings who were just trying to live their lives to the best of their abilities were coming back to haunt him. Every night, he could hear his master's voice repeating those words but now was not the time for such thoughts, for they would only disrupt his concentration. He blocked the thought from his mind and felt a cold detachment come over him, knowing that it was the only way he could perform his duties as a hitokiri, duties he was rapidly discovering he had no liking for. His other persona, the cold and calculating Hitokiri Battousai, was the only way he could survive in this blood soaked hell of Kyoto. He was Kenshin's only defense in a world that had become a long, never ending nightmare that was too much for his gentler nature to deal with.

Hitokiri Battousai scanned the information on his latest targets, quickly committing the list of people and places to memory, before returning the envelope to its place. He felt the cold fire beginning to burn within him and his eyes narrowed, an amber glow coming to them as he gave himself up completely to his shadow self. Quickly, the hitokiri ran from the bridge and slipped into the shadows of the alleyway, feeling suddenly too exposed on the bridge and longing for the cover offered by the shadows. Kenshin was now a hunter in search of his prey but in the back of his mind, Hiko's words echoed faintly, remaining with the young man he had trained until the day came when he was ready to finally listen.


	2. Chapter One

Tales of the Mitsurugi Dragon: Shadow of Shadows

By: Hitokiri Gentatsu

Author's Note: Thanks so much for the reviews on this. I wasn't sure that I got inside Battousai's head very well. Anyway, here is the next part. You know what to do when you finish reading it, so don't make me send an angry hitokiri after you.

Chapter One: Heaven's Justice

"Shigure told me that the Bakumatsu was incredibly chaotic. Nobody could tell good from evil. He said that people fought solely for what was in their hearts. I believe what he said"

Takatsuki Toki

Ishinshishi no Requiem

"Heaven's Justice!" The words echoed just seconds before a gleaming, silver blade whistled through the air, cutting down the man in front of the hitokiri from shoulder to thigh. Before the second guard could move, the silent shadow had flown into the air and the last thing the man felt before death rose to claim him was the impact of a sword slicing through his skull. The third guard and his charge scanned the area for the assassin but could not find him amid the shadows of the alleyway. Suddenly, there was a gurgling sound from the remaining guard and he slumped to the ground, his head rolling some feet from his twitching body.

The hitokiri turned his amber gaze toward the man who was his target and smiled a cold smile when he saw the man trembled slightly, even though he was attempting to face his killer bravely. The man had a sword in his hands but that mattered very little to the Hitokiri Battousai, the man was as good as dead now.

"I have come to give you the justice demanded of the people of Japan." His eyes burned, glowing amber orbs of cold rage. 

"You're a demon! Damn you, Hitokiri Battousai!" the man yelled as he charged the assassin, who stood calmly in the face of his enemy's charge.

The battle was over before it began. The man's charge carried him quickly into the range of the Battousai's katana and, just as the man arrived in range, he drew his sword, cleanly severing the man's sword hand from his arm and slashing across his throat. The man made a faint sound in the back of his throat and fell to his knees, clutching throat with his left hand, a look of surprise and hatred in his eyes.

"Heaven's Justice." Hitokiri Battousai hissed the words at the dying man, whose eyes were beginning to fade but not before he managed to grab his killer's hakama, leaving a smear of scarlet on them. He looked up at the young hitokiri, hatred for his killer evident in his fading gaze.

"Revenge…" he managed to gasp before he fell forward, silenced by death. Battousai removed the man's bloody hand from his hakama, and then he surveyed his work. The four men lay in pools of their own blood and there were blood splatters on all the buildings near where they had stood. Battousai looked down at them with no trace of emotion, other than cold detachment, on his face but, in his heart, he was silently grieving for the men he had slain.

"May you find happiness in the next life," he thought as he slipped quietly away to his next assignment.

*

He moved through the night, an inky black shadow hidden within the other shadows of the alley. His sandals made no sound on the uneven pavement and he had stilled his breathing to barely a whisper. His eyes were closed to mere slits, to keep the their amber glow from betraying his location to the next target. The mouth of the alley faced one of the main thoroughfares of Kyoto-the Kawaramachi and he could see the waters of the canal brushed with silver moonlight. His target would be walking passed the mouth of this alley any moment now. Sawajiro Ichiro was known as a staunch supporter of Bakufu's policy of opening Japan to the foreigners and he was rumored to be an expert swordsman. He thought himself so expert, in fact, that he often went out alone and unguarded feeling no need of such protection.

Battousai grimaced. Sawajiro would be more difficult to deal with then that last man had been, but he would die as well. The hitokiri had yet to face an opponent who could defeat him. This fact did not, however, make him overconfident. It was merely the truth. He was certain that some master swordsman would be able to defeat him since he had never completed his own training and there was little doubt in his mind that he would meet his end on that swordsman's blade just as surely as the sun rose. It was only a matter of time and no hitokiri last more than a few months at best. They either died at the hands of one of their targets that happened to either be better skilled or lucky or they went mad from all the slaughter and were slain by their own comrades. Either way, they died and so would he. 

Battousai's morbid train of thought was broken by a sound out in the street, a few feet to his left. He moved closer to the mouth of the alley he was hiding in and felt the beat of a powerful ki coming toward his position with a steady pace. Battousai had long ago masked his own ki from detection and he stood in the concealing shadows of the alley, waiting in tense anticipation for his target to appear. He saw Sawajiro pass the mouth of the alley, so close that he could have touched the man with his hand and Battousai tensed, ready to spring upon his unsuspecting target. It was then that he noticed a second man pass the alley's mouth.

"A guard?" Battousai paused in confusion. Was Sawajiro expecting an attack? Had someone warned him? 'It doesn't matter, the man must die.'

Battousai's mouth twisted into a snarl and he stepped out of the concealing shadows. "I have come bringing Heaven's Justice." His cold voice whispered into the night, a hand on the hilt of his sheathed katana for emphasis.

The two men turned, their eyes widening in surprise, then a look of confusion crossed their features when they saw him. Battousai's snarl turned into a sinister smile that twisted his mouth. He walked slowly forward, his targets trapped by the cold furosity of his gaze. Finally, the second man moved to shield Sawajiro and hissed at him to flee while he had the chance. Sawajiro backed up a pace or two but did not run as his bodyguard requested. A few seconds later, something warm and sticky hit him as he saw his bodyguard cut down without having even drawn his katana.

Battousai's sword made a silver arc in the air, which was grotesquely echoed by the arc of blood that came from the fallen man. The hitokiri's eyes glowed ferally in the half light and he turned those eyes toward Sawajiro, reveling in the power he held, enjoying the fear he could feel coming from the other man. He moved quickly but silently toward his target and was surprised when his katana met the blade of another instead of the man's body.

"You will not find me so easy to kill, hitokiri. I will fight you." Sawajiro glared at the boy in front of him.

Battousai narrowed his eyes in concentration and took a step or two back, positioning his sword in front of him to guard against attack.

"You will die here." Battousai's voice was flat, without emotion and cut the air like a blade of cold steel.

Sawajiro's answer was to attack in a blur of motion. He was as good as the rumors claimed he was and his attacks had more power behind them than anyone Battousai had fought thus far. He found himself being pushed back with each attack and unable, for the first time, to get in one of his own.'But soon his power will wear him out and then I will strike.' Battousai's eyes narrowed and he waited patiently, continuing to parry the man's blows.

The final blow came less then fifteen minuets later. Sawajiro had managed to get passed his defenses twice: once to graze his left wrist and once across his chest. The wounds were but a minor annoyance to him but his opponent seemed unlikely to become worn out any time soon. Sawajiro continued to rain blows on him with the same amount of power as time passed and soon Battousai found himself with his back against the wall of one of the buildings. He growled low in his throat and continued to parry the man's katana. 

A dim corner of his mind registered another wound. 'Along his collarbone, shallow and of no consequence'. Then he saw the man's katana slicing through the air, aimed at his neck and he found his opening at last. He ducked under Sawajiro's swing, dropping his own katana in favor of his shorter wakizashi. His aim was true and he could feel the man's blood covering his hand as his wakizashi sliced open Sawajiro's stomach. He made a surprised sound and his lifeless body fell backwards, showering his killer with more blood.

Battousai stood and flicked the blood from his blade. Then he bent down to retrieve his katana from where it had fallen. He looked the blade over and, after cleaning it and his wakizashi on the dead man's haori, he disappeared into the night just as whistles began to sound, announcing the arrival of the Shinsengumi or one of the other police forces that patrol the blood soaked streets of Kyoto.

*

"I will create a better world with my sword. One where people, all people, can live peaceful lives without fear. With these hands I will protect those who cannot protect themselves." Kenshin looked at his hands, submerged in the bucket of cold water and frowned at the now hollow sounding words.

He had returned to the inn an hour and a half ago but he was still in the bathhouse cleaning. He was trying to wash away the stench of blood from his person and clothing but was once again failing to do so. The smell of blood was still there for those who knew its scent. Even after ten buckets of water, Kenshin could still smell it. Its sweet, faintly metallic odor clung to him and to everything associated with him. It created an impenetrable barrier between him and the other men of the clan. He knew that his presence made them uncomfortable, that they avoided contact with 'the hitokiri' at all cost. As time passed, he noticed how the others went out of their way to avoid crossing paths with him, how they would never look him in the eye whenever they had to speak to him and how all conversation stopped whenever he entered a room. He also noticed that they never addressed him by his given name. He was always 'Katsura's man', or, more often, just 'hitokiri'. Kenshin wasn't even sure if the majority of the men even knew his real name.

He dried his hands on a towel, his face seemingly placid but his insides knotted in turmoil. He felt he was slowly turning into a shadow with no existence beyond all killing he did. Every time he went out to his assignments, he felt a little bit of the light inside him die to become replaced with cold darkness. He felt as if he were becoming another person, one that he didn't want to be. Yet, there was no way out of his situation. He had made a promise to Katsura and to himself. He would protect the new era that was being created. He heart would not allow him to do otherwise. He would not stand idle while innocent lives were being threatened nor while people were suffering in front of him. He just wished there was some way other than the murder of men whose only crime was working for the Shogunate. Wasn't he guilty of a far worse crime than that? Kenshin shook his head. It was already to late for him. He could not escape this cycle of death and destruction. He had made a promise and he would keep his word, even if that promise led to his death, even if his soul was twisted beyond all hope of salvation.

He gathered up his swords and walked into the inn, passed the landlady, who watched as he mounted the stairs quietly, headed for his solitary rooms. She shook her head, as soon as he had disappeared up the stairs, wishing could think of a way to help him. She knew what the young man's job was only because he had to have a way back into the inn late at night. Once again, she silently cursed. What did Katsura think he was doing, turning a young boy into a killing tool? What could have gotten the notion into the man's mind?

She had seen the change in Kenshin, just as she had seen it in others before him. At first, he had been curious about things and wore his emotions openly on his face and in his eyes. In the first few months, she had had to shoo the boy from the girls in the kitchens, whom he insisted on helping, while the girls flirted shamelessly with the handsome youth. When she found out he had extra time on his hands, unlike the others who stayed at her inn, she had assigned him a few chores to keep him occupied. He had been happy to be of help to her, particularly since they were shorthanded. He had even volunteered to escort the girls to the market and back.

But now…now Kenshin had become silent and moody. He never smiled and there was no emotion in his dull, lifeless eyes. His voice, when he spoke, was a flat monotone and his speech was clipped and precise. He never helped around the inn anymore, preferring to stay in the isolation of his rooms or to walk the streets of Kyoto alone during the day, when he was not sleeping through it in preparation for his nightly work. She was worried about him; about the way he had seemed to lock up his emotions behind a sealed wall, hidden from sight. This change was more pronounced in him then it had been in his older counterparts and that worried her even more. She feared that in a few months Himura would tear himself apart as his two sides came more and more into conflict.

She left a note telling the others not to disturb Himura-san until he called for them and went to her own room, still thinking how unfair the world had been to the boy turned hitokiri.


	3. Chapter Two

Tales of the Mitsurugi Dragon: Shadow of Shadows

By: Hitokiri Gentatsu

Author's Note: I don't own Rurouni Kenshin. Sadly, he belongs to someone else. Now, on with the story of the Hitokiri Battousai's adventures. Please feel free to review when you are finished. ^_^x

Chapter Two: Shadow Hidden

"The boy's soul will be ruined by this work…"

Takasugi Shinsaka

Tsuioku Hen

Kenshin woke with a start, feeling the sun's light warming his face. Something had awakened him but, as he looked around the room, he saw nothing. He stood up slowly and stretched the kinks out of his back, his eyes still sweeping the empty and silent room. He shook out his clothing, straightening the wrinkles and swept a hand through his hair, adjusting the high ponytail slightly. Then he slide his katana through his obi and was making ready to leave the room when a flash of movement outside caught his attention.

Without opening the window any farther, Kenshin peered cautiously outside. The street below him was silent for once and the river flashed silver where it was touched by the sun. He watched the glittering water below, the sun highlighting his hair in flame while the rest of his face remained in shadow. He continued to stare out the window, oblivious to anything else but the memories it stirred within his heart. He saw the river near Hiko's mountain home; its swift but hidden current always a danger and he wondered what Hiko was doing right now. A longing to see his master again swept over him but he knew that he could never do so, not in this lifetime. Then he had an image of the past, from the time he was still happy and when happiness was a simple matter of food, shelter and loving-kindness.

~The water under his feet was slightly cold, but Shinta didn't mind the cold, all he wanted was to take a little break from his chore of weeding the field. His father had given him permission to rest when he saw how tired his only son was. Shinta had wandered away from the fields, then, to the stream that sparkled invitingly some distance away. It seemed to be calling him and he could use it to wash the mud from his feet.

He smiled, feeling the current pushing against his feet like a living thing. It had been made stronger and swifter with the recent heavy rains. He gazed up and down the river and flung his arms out to better steady himself against the rush of the current, feeling happy he was alive and well. He had been ill not two weeks past with an odd fever that had left him weak and unable to do anything for himself. His mother had made him drink a remedy that the herb woman said would ease his discomfort. After a few days he was well again and demanding to be allowed outside to play in a voice only a five year old could muster.

"Shinta-chan?" His sister's voice floated to him across the field. "Mama is looking for you."

Shinta shaded his eyes and saw Makako running toward him as fast as her kimono would allow her to. He splashed out of the waters of the stream and went to greet her, a sense of almost overwhelming happiness in his heart. ~

He blinked his eyes and his vision disappeared to be replaced with the sparkling waters of the canal and street in Kyoto. He shook his head to clear it of the memories but found that his mind would not allow this. 

Back then; it had been such a simple matter to be happy and content. To be loved and adored by people who were closer to him than anyone would or could ever be again. His family had loved him for who he was, not what he could do, and they sought to protect him from the harsh realities of life, even during their last days together. The strange fever he had had at age five somehow prevented him from contracting the cholera that slowly took the lives of everyone he had known. 

His first brush with death came at the tender age of seven as he watched both of his parents and the entire village where he lived succumb to the disease that never touched him. Makako, unable to stand by and watch the other villagers suffer, had donned men's clothing and had left to seek out the doctor who lived in the next village many days journey from their own. She had promised to return to him soon but she never did. He supposed she must be dead as well. He was left the only survivor of the plague and angered by his inability to do anything to save the lives of his family and friends. It was almost a relief to go with the slavers and leave behind the village of death that symbolized his failure. The slavers were not kind men but anything was preferable to living among the dead

He shook his head to clear it of the memories that had no place in his current life and went downstairs to the kitchens for some food, though he would probably not taste it anymore then he could taste the sake he used to fortify himself before a kill. 

"Blood is everywhere now, even in the food I eat. How long can I survive like this?" 

The girls in the kitchen scrambled to get him a meal and they smiled at him but he did not feel like smiling back.

"Arigato, Midori-san," he said softly as he sat down to eat in stony silence, his face a hard, impassive mask.

Midori's smile faded and she returned to her work without another glace at the sad-eyed young man.

Kenshin did not notice her sad eyes and continued to eat as if nothing bothered him. After the meal he walked down the corridor, toward the back gate of the inn, intent on escaping the place for the day when he ran into Iizuka there. Kenshin frowned and his body tensed up, his heart painfully contracting in his chest.

"Not another black envelope so soon," he thought in a panic. He still needed time to recover from the last job.

"Katsura-san wants to speak with you," was all Iizuka said.

Relief flood through Kenshin and he nodded, falling into step behind the taller man. "Is he here then?"

"No, he's at the Choshu headquarters. I'm to escort you there," he replied without turning around, a strange half-smirk curving his lips.

Kenshin followed Iizuka down the rest of the corridor and, after retrieving his footwear; he followed the man outside the inn. The sun was shining brightly overhead and its light seemed to cast a hazy glow around everything. The two men walked down the street toward Choshu headquarters in silence and Kenshin wondered what it was that Katsura wanted to speak to him about. He was so deep in his own thoughts about this that he failed to notice anything unusual about his surroundings, including a man who was watching him intently from an upper story window and street vendor who eyes where full of hatred for him.

*

They reached Choshu headquarters without incident and the samurai at the gate let them pass without stopping them, recognizing the Hitokiri Battousai instantly by his blood red hair and his youthful appearance. Kenshin didn't even bother to look at the two guards, knowing they would look away as if frightened by his mere existence. Mentally, he winced at the thought but no hint of emotion crossed his features. Emotions were a dangerous thing for a hitokiri to possess because they interfered with his ability to do his job. Kenshin could ill afford to let his inner turmoil and sadness be seen and he certainly could offer no hand of friendship to anyone, assuming anyone would want to become friends with a killer.

"Those kitchen girls liked you, once…" a voice whispered in his head, but he chose to ignore it again. That voice distracted him from his duties and he could not allow that.

He found Katsura in his study looking over some paperwork. Kenshin entered quietly, having left Iizuka behind in the outer hall, and sat across from Katsura, making a formal bow.

"You sent for me, Katsura-san?" Kenshin said quietly, as his senses and eyes swept he room in a now unconscious gesture of protection.

Katsura looked up from his paperwork to regard the young man before him and made a bow of his own. When he heard the whisper of Katsura's clothing, Kenshin's head snapped up to regard Katsura for a moment before he bowed his head slightly to look at his folded hands, his hair shadowing his face and masking his eyes from view.

Katsura looking into Kenshin's eyes for a moment and his own eyes widened at the brief glimpse he had of the cold hardness in Kenshin's gaze. He was very glad when the young hitokiri looked away and trained those eyes on his hands instead. For a moment, Katsura thought back to what Takasuki had told him about this work ruining the boy's soul. He had not wanted to admit the truth of that statement at the time but, seeing the look in Kenshin's eyes now seemed to confirm what he had been told then. 

"What have I done?" His heart chilled as he sensed coldness within Kenshin's spirit that had not been present when they first met and the hitokiri's rage that lay just under the surface.

"You have been doing very well," Katsura said to him and Kenshin's head jerked up in response. There was a look of confusion in his pale purple eyes.

Katsura looked into his cold eyes again and shivered inwardly. "From now on, though, things will become more difficult. The people who need to be eliminated now are all heavily guarded, particularly after your last job."

Kenshin nodded his bowed head. "I see," he replied quietly, his voice betraying nothing, although fear raced through him.

"You will have to be more careful, not only are their guards but also the Shinsengumi to deal with."

Kenshin looked up from his hands and Katsura saw an amber glint in the hitokiri's eyes before it was masked again. "I will deal with them," Kenshin said, his voice flat.

"For the moment just concentrate on your assignments and don't become involved in duels with the Shinsengumi. They would like nothing better than to catch the 'Terror of Kyoto'. We need to keep your identity and movements a secret and we cannot do so if they know who you are. A hitokiri who is known is of no use to us."

"I understand." Kenshin's face was shadowed and his eyes revealed nothing of his emotions. He bowed again and rose. "If there is nothing else..."

Katsura looked up at Kenshin and waved a hand. "Not at the moment, but you will be contacted again soon."

"Then I will take my leave." Kenshin bowed again and turned to go.

"Kenshin," Katsura's voice contained a hint of concern for the young man. "Take care..."

"I know that I will die shortly but until that time I will do what I can to aid in the creation of a new era, that is all that matters to me now," he said without facing Katsura, knowing that his eyes would betray his fear of death.

He slid the door open and departed without a sound. Not waiting for Iizuka to finish his own business, he left the building to walk the streets, his mind on future assignments.

*

There were no black envelopes for him for almost two weeks and Kenshin was relieved at the reprieve from the bloodshed. He used the time to practice his techniques and to rest his weary body and mind. Memories of his past life flooded his thoughts as his subconscious tried to tell him to flee his current situation and return to his previous life of peace. But he could not leave, his pride refused to let him abandon his post and the people who were suffering in front of his eyes.

He knew in his heart that his decision to come here had been a bad one and that his soul was becoming warped by the killer he was becoming but it was not a simple matter to walk away from all that. He knew he could not expect even his master to take him back after six months of blood staining his hands. Hiko Seijuro would certainly not act as if nothing had happened if he attempted to return. He would simply sneer at Kenshin's misplaced idealism like he had before, only this time he would add that he was right and his 'baka deshi' was wrong in that conceited tone he always used.

"Much better to stay here," he thought to himself as he opened the back gate of the inn and slipped inside the courtyard to be confronted with Iizuka.

"There you are, Kenshin. I've searched half the city for you but couldn't find you," a crooked smile curved the man's mouth.

"I was down by the river," Kenshin's soft voice gave no hint of his inner conflict.

Iizuka walked closer to him and handed him a black envelope. "Tonight," he whispered and Kenshin nodded as he slipped the envelope inside his sleeve without a word.

"Well, I'll be on my way then. I'll meet you after," Iizuka waved and then slipped out the gate.

Kenshin watched him leave and then turned back to the inn. Once inside, he found the landlady, deep in discussion with one of the new girls, who smiled up at Kenshin as he entered the room.

"May I have a moment of your time?" he asked, smiling at the young girl though there was no emotion in that smile. 

The landlady excused herself and went out into the hall with him.

"I am going to my rooms now and have no wish to be disturbed. I will get dinner in the city tonight and will be back very late."

The landlady nodded, understanding the code, "Very well, Himura-san. Do be careful. The city grows more dangerous in the dead of night."

Kenshin nodded and went to his rooms, making sure to slide all the doors closed, checking each room for anyone who didn't belong there as he did so. Then he slid the window open wider and sat in the sill, watching the waters of the canal below him. There was a ferryboat taking a group of samurai across the canal and a few women passed on the street below him, their powdered faces and elaborate hairstyles indicating they were geisha. Briefly, Kenshin wondered what geisha were doing in this area of the city but he dismissed them as any kind of threat to the security of the inn or himself.

He sat in the windowsill for several minutes before he took out the black envelope, a bit of trepidation and fear in his heart at the thought of more blood on his hands but he scanned its contents. There were three names. One was a weapon's smith who supplied the Shogunate forces with their weapons. The second was a high-ranking member of the Aizu clan who was suspected of being their primary hitokiri and who was responsible for the deaths of several Ishinshishi supporters within the Bakufu. But the third caused Kenshin's eyes to widen in shock because he was a man that Kenshin and the others trusted above all else. He could not believe what was written under his name. 

"Tanaka Yasahiro, has turned traitor?"


	4. Chapter Three

Tales of the Mitsurugi Dragon: Shadow of Shadows

By Hitokiri Gentatsu

A/N: Gomen for being so long with this but I have two jobs now so things IRL are pretty busy. I will finish this and 'Sanctuary' as well, so don't worry. Hope you will enjoy this chapter and, as always, feel free to read and review.

Chapter Three: Confusion

"In plays they always say, 'a rain of blood fell'…but you really made it rain blood."

Yukishiro Tomoe

Jinchuu Arc 

Dusk had fallen over the city and the sky overhead was painted a deep shade of crimson shot through with pink and purple but Kenshin paid on heed to its beauty as he walked through the gathering gloom. His narrow-eyed gaze took in everything and everyone as he passed down the street, which was full of people, toward the restaurant. He wasn't truly hungry but he knew better than to not eat at all and he needed the focus that a few jars of sake would provide him in order to do tonight's work.

He slipped into the establishment on silent feet, unnoticed among the crowd of guests, and took a seat in a corner so that his back would be guarded while he ate. A young girl came and took his order of plain rice and spicy beef and departed. Kenshin watched the other occupants of the room but saw no one that could be a threat to him. When the girl returned, he pressed one of his few coins into her hand and asked her to bring him three bottles of sake. She bowed and returned shortly with his request. She left him alone, a slight blush creeping over her face at the thought of the polite, handsome and young samurai she had just served.

Kenshin took little notice of the girl and became pre-occupied with pushing his food around instead. He looked around the room and tried to eat but the food tasted of blood, as nearly everything he ate or drank did. He managed to choke down about half of it before pushing it away with a grimace. Instead of food, he turned to the sake jar in front of him and poured some of the liquid into his cup. He contemplated it for a moment and then downed it in one gulp, grimacing as the warmed alcohol made its way down to his stomach. 

He made quick work of the three bottles and soon called the waitress over, asking for three more and giving her another of his coins. After drinking these three, he was finally able to manage the rest of his dinner and he felt his body calm slightly. The night outside had grown dark and most of the people had left the establishment by the time he had finished. He left a few more coins on the table, picked up his swords and left as quietly as he had come, disappearing into the night like a phantom.

The cool night air hit him as he left and he slid his arms inside his gi for warmth. He moved down the street noiselessly, his senses on alert for possible enemies. His head never moved but his now amber eyes continually swept the area around him.

There was no one.

He continued to walk with apparent unconcern as a few remaining townsfolk scampered quickly to their homes, wanting desperately to return to their families before violence could befall them. Battousai ignored them. They were of no threat to him and he had work to do this night.

*

Battousai leapt to the roof of the wall that enclosed the estate with the grace and silence of a cat. He crouched there, watching the guards moving back and forth in a pattern so complex that it took him several moments to determine what it was. They seemed to be moving in a haphazard fashion. Battousai narrowed his glowing eyes and watched them carefully, glad that there was no moon to give his presence away to those below him. After several moments he was able to discern the pattern and several seconds latter he had counted it out in his head.

"Even those guards will not save you," he thought as he landed silently on the ground behind a screen of trees and shrubs, his amber eyes narrowed in concentration.

He counted off seconds in his head, timing the movements of the unseen guards that he had watched from above, before darting from under the covering plants. He was nearly invisible in the deep shadows that dappled the yard as he moved passed the guards with the silent swiftness his master had painstakeningly drilled into him from youth. He hid within the shadows of the main house and watched the passing guards a moment before sliding a nearby window open and slipping through it.

The room before him was empty and he paused to catch his breath. He knew he could have easily killed all the guards outside but they were not his targets, even though they worked for a Shogunate official. Their deaths would just be meaningless slaughter and not even the Hitokiri Battousai liked that.

"Its better this way. No needless bloodshed and only one death…"

He listened at the door for a few minutes before slowly sliding it open. The narrow and shadowy corridor before him was devoid of light and people, although there he could sense people sleeping in the rooms on either side of the hall. He sprinted down the empty hall without a sound and seemingly without touching the floor, intent on only one thing; ending this quickly and quietly so that he could move on to the next target.

Battousai paused in mid-stride as a powerful ki beat against his own, although his was carefully masked to hide his location from others. He paused and looked at the door before him, which appeared to be no different from the others but for the presence he sensed beyond it. From what he could tell, there was only one person in the room and that person was most likely his target.

"It could be a trap. Better go carefully," he thought to himself as Katsura's warning echoed in his mind.

Battousai stood, posed at the closed door, waiting for some internal signal. When nothing happened for several minutes and when no alarm was given, he quietly slid the door open and slipped into the dark room. He stood against the wall and was inching along it when a deep voice spoke to him from across the room.

"So--you are the Ishin Shadow, the one called Hitokiri Battousai, are you? You're not what I expected at all."

Battousai scanned the room, knowing from the beating of the other's ki where the man stood.

"I have come to bring you Tenchuu for your tyrannous acts against the people." Battousai's voice held a cold edge to it and his amber eyes glowed in the darkness.

There was the sound of a match striking something as a single lantern was lit and Battousai could see an older samurai regarding him. The man had a naked blade in his hands and his face was a mask of rage. Battousai's eyes widened for a moment but then his mouth formed into a snarl and his eyes narrowed again, becoming twin pools of death.

The other man stepped forward into the lantern's glow and Battousai saw that his arms were covered with scars and that the man's eyes were cold, hard chips of black onyx, flat and devoid of all emotion.

"The eyes of a killer…" a distant part of his mind thought.

"They send a child to do the work of a man," the other man sneered at him and then charged.

Battousai growled low in his throat and drew his blade as the man rushed him and he felt more than saw the impact of the two blades. He jumped back, flipping in mid-air and landed near the west wall of the room.

"You're better than I expected, hitokiri but you will still die here." The man charged again, aiming his swing for the Battousai's head.

He moved under the swing and, in one fluid motion, got in behind the man, making a diagonal slash at his unprotected back. He was surprised when the man spun around and aimed a kick at his unprotected left side. There was a sickening crack of bone as the kick connected and Battousai staggered back into the wall, holding his side and gasping for breath. The man advanced on him, his blade gleaming dully in the faint light.

"I believe the one who will receive Tenchuu tonight will be you, Hitokiri Battousai!" He raised his katana high into the air and for a moment Battousai could see his death in the eyes of the Shogunate assassin. For a moment he stood frozen, his eyes transfixed by the gleaming blade that was poised to take his life, unable to move a muscle to stop it. Then, quite suddenly, time began to move again and Battousai struck, his eyes closed and a grimace on his face. He heard and felt his blade pass through the other man's body and the thump as the two pieces fell to the floor in a shower of blood. The other man's katana fell uselessly to the floor never having even touched its intended target.

Battousai opened his eyes and flicked the blood from his sword before cleaning and returning it to his side. Then he staggered against the wall, an arm wrapped around his broken ribs. He breathed shallowly and tried not to move as he looked around the now silent room for something to use as a makeshift bandage. There was nothing of use in the room, just the corpse and himself and he silently cursed his luck. Battousai grimaced in pain and walked slowly toward the room's window, feeling the broken bones move as he walked. The pain was nearly unbearable and a slight hiss escaped him as he moved.

"Shimmata, this hurts," he thought. "I will have to return to the inn and tend this."

He grimaced at the thought of leaving his work unfinished but there was really no other option for him at this point. He may be good at blocking pain during battle so that wounds became but minor annoyances to him during the course of the fight but this was something different, something that could endanger his life, unlike the scratches he'd picked-up thus far. One misstep here and he would be dealing with a punctured lung in addition to his broken ribs.

"My other targets will have to wait for another night to die." Another hiss escaped him as he continued to move slowly and silently to the window.

He slid it open and inch or so and peered outside. The guards in this area moved in a tighter and more complex pattern near the room of their master then they had anywhere else within the estate. Battousai slipped into the shadows of the room as one of the guards passed by outside the window. After several moments, he peeked out again to study the pattern the guards made as they patrolled the area between the house and the back gate. He hissed in pain again but continued to watch as each sharp pain shot through him.

He had just begun to understand and count off the pattern being walked by the guards within his sight when another guard passed by the window just as another hiss escaped him.

"Who's there? Shirohoshi-sama...are you well?" The man slide the window fully open and saw his master's body.

Battousai slipped into the shadows of the room as the guard raised the alarm through the house and several guards arrived on the scene with their captain.

"Damn Ishin hitokiri! I want him found!" The guard captain said as he scanned the room for some sign of his quarry.

The others raced to follow their captain's orders and Battousai could hear them moving about the house. The grounds outside were empty of them from what he could see but he dared not move while the captain remained in the room.

Another involuntary hiss escaped him and the captain turned to face him.

"So you're still here and wounded by the sound of it." The man's eyes peered into the shadowy darkness of the room but saw nothing.

While the captain had been talking, Battousai had slipped from his hiding place and outside but, as he did so, the uneven boards beneath his feet jarred his ribs and he let out a small cry. The captain came outside and smirked at him.

"So you are the Hitokiri Battousai? Somehow I pictured someone older. No matter, you will die here." The captain drew his sword.

"It is you who will die." Battousai's voice was cold, with no trace of pain he was feeling nor any emotion. He crouched in battoujutsu stance and waited.

The captain stood there, not making a move, seemingly waiting for him to attack. Battousai stared at him, his burning amber gaze holding the other man's before he vanished from sight. The guard captain looked around wildly for him and felt the air above him move slightly. He sidestepped the attack and heard Battousai land heavily on the ground, another pain filled cry coming from him. The captain swung around, aiming for the downed hitokiri's sword arm, intent on ending the sword fighting days of the Hitokiri Battousai for good. Battousai rose and moved back with god-like speed, watching the blade pass harmlessly in front of him. As it did so, he moved forward again and unsheathed his blade with blinding speed. The captain had no chance to parry the blow and the katana sliced open his stomach. He fell backward, dead before he even hit the floor.

Battousai stared dispassionately at the corpse and clenched his ribs with a hiss, tears of pain standing in his amber eyes. He glanced around, noticing no one around and sprinted for the back gate, his sword still unsheathed. He slipped outside the gate just as a second alarm was given and he stood leaning against the outer wall, trying to breath as shallowly as possible. Tears of pain coursed down his cheeks from eyes that were now purple hued gold. He stood there for several minutes before the noise on the other side of the gate became a dull murmur. Only then did he move away from the wall and begin to stagger back toward the inn.

He got a few houses away from the one he had just left when he collapsed in the alley, unable to move farther due to the persistent and sharp pain in his side. His breath came out in gasps and he moaned quietly. Somehow he managed to get back on his feet and he began to walk blindly down the darkened alley, the pain he was in slowly overcoming all thought and common sense. He stumbled and fell again, crying out in pain. He lay still for a few moments and then got up again.

The trip back to the inn was a nightmare of pain and darkness that hovered at the edge of his vision. Twice he had nearly walked right into two troops of the Shinsengumi, who were likely searching for him and once he had stumbled into the middle of a family dispute. His ears still rung with the force of the man's punch and there was a thin trickle of blood on his face coming from somewhere under his bangs.

Soon the inn swam into view and he relaxed slightly. Only a few more steps and he would be safe for the night. Then he heard it, the unmistakable sound of a sword being drawn and a cool voice spoke with deadly earnest. 

"Now is the time for you to receive the Tenchuu, Battousai-san" 


	5. Chapter Four

Tales of the Mitsurugi Dragon: Shadow of Shadows

By: Hitokiri Gentatsu

A/N: I think I will continue with this one for a while. I seem to be having writer's block on 'Sanctuary' at the moment. Gomen nasai. Anyway enjoy chapter four.

Chapter Four: Knowing the Enemy

"I do what I do to create a better world. That's all I need to know."

Hitokiri Battousai

Kenshin's heart fluttered in his chest at the coldness of the voice.

"Kuso! Why tonight?" he thought as he turned his head to regard the shadowy figure with one narrowed amber eye. "So another soul wishes for death tonight."

Battousai's voice was cold, showing no emotion as he sized up his new opponent. The man was taller than himself, with piercing, gray eyes. Battousai could see daisho at the man's waist and, as his opponent stepped into the faint light, he could see that the man was dressed in dark colors, much like his own. Battousai turned swiftly to face the man, his face an emotionless mask and his left hand gripping his saya so hard that his knuckles were white.

The man chuckled and Battousai's eyes narrowed farther, his right hand wrapping around the hilt of his katana and his mouth set in a snarl.

"You're the famed Hitokiri Battousai?" The tone of his voice made the man's question sound more like an insult then a question and Battousai crouched into battoujutsu stance. "You are nothing but a child, pretending to be a man, a mere peasant playing at being a samurai."

"Come…" Battousai growled, his eyes glowing bright amber. "If you wish so badly to die tonight."

The man barked a laugh and charged at him with a smirk on his face. Battousai waited to draw his sword until the last possible moment but when did so; he was surprised to find himself swinging at empty air. Too late, he felt the man move in behind him and felt the pain as a wound opened up on his back.

He leapt out of the way of a blow meant to sever his head from his body, feeling the blood trickling down, staining the back of his gi. The man advanced again, aiming a slash at Battousai's stomach, which he easily avoided. Battousai gave the man no chance to recover from his previous attack before launching one of his own. He charged the man, hoping to end the battle quickly with the Ryu Shou Sen. The man blocked it and the stunned hitokiri felt his opponent's fist hit him in the stomach. He growled low in his throat but made no sign of the pain he was in. Instead, he blocked the man's sword with the hilt of his wakazashi and sliced the man across the ribcage. The blow would have been a killing one if the man hadn't stepped back at the last moment.

"Who are you?" Battousai demanded. "And what do you want?"

The man glared at him with intense hatred burning in his eyes. "I will avenge my father's death! You killed him or don't you remember that bright and sunny day six months past? At the shrine…I saw you murder him!"

Battousai's eyes widened, remembering his first kill six months ago.

--The shrine had been peaceful and still, wrapped in silence as deafening as a shout, when Kenshin arrived there. He passed through the gate and thought about what little he had been told. His target would be alone in the shrine, Katsura had said. All Kenshin had to do was go in, kill the man and someone else would take care of the rest. He stood in the shadows and waited for the man…no, his target, anxious to do a good job and a little frightened of the prospect. Despite what he had told Katsura, he had never actually used his sword against a living opponent with the intent of taking another's life, he had never killed anyone before. He looked down at his hands for a moment and briefly wondered what he was getting himself into but then his target arrived on the scene, just as Katsura had said he would. 

Kenshin blocked all other thoughts from his mind and advanced on the man, who was unaware of the danger, he was in. The man's surprised scream was cut short as Kenshin's katana reached his heart. For a few moments after, Kenshin stood, looking up at the sky, feeling something stir awake that he had not realized was there. Something dangerous –-

"That man was you father?" he said quietly.

His opponent's answer was to charge him again. The two fought on in silence, the only sound being the ringing of their two swords as they connected. Neither man had been able to get passed the other's defenses but for a few times. Each man sported shallow cuts that were not serious for all the blood that came from them. Battousai gripped his the hilt of his katana, which was wet with sweat and blood, waiting for the man's next attack. He could feel the wall of a building behind him and smirked inwardly.

"Now we end this," he thought as he raised a foot, resting it against the wall behind him.

His opponent charged and, using the leverage his foot on the wall gave him, he sprang forward at the same instant. The extra leverage put more strength behind his next blow and made his already quick movements little more than a blur. His opponent had no chance and the Battousai heard, rather than saw, the man's head fly from his body. He landed some distance away from the body and flicked the blood from his sword before sheathing it again. Battousai never looked back at the body, though he did mutter a quick prayer for the man as he walked down the alley away from the inn. His chest was burning and sharp pains were traveling across it as his broken ribs made themselves felt. Kenshin's amber eyes cooled to a bluish-violet and he wrapped an arm around his ribs again, praying there was no one else about to ambush him this night.

"The inn will have to wail till morning," he thought, knowing better than to threaten the safety of the other Ishin.

He walked down the alley, taking the first intersection he came to and traveled along that path for perhaps half an hour. This alley brought him out on one of the main roads, which was still busy despite the lateness of the hour. Here he lost himself in the crowd and let it carry him the rest of the way to his next destination.

After a few moments travel, he slipped down another alley and onto another street, this one as devoid of people as the other one had been full. He kept his senses alert for danger and kept as much as possible to the shadows as he made his way down the street. After few moments, he knocked on the door of a non-descript house and, after whispering his name and clan, was admitted by a stony faced man and his son.

"I require shelter for the night," he said quietly and the man nodded.

The silent man led Kenshin to a small room at the back of the house.

"Arigatou," Kenshin said softly, bowing at the man, who made a quick bow in return before departing, having never once said a word to his guest

Kenshin sighed and slide a window open, to stare at the sky. He tensed for a moment as the door slide open behind him.

"Father said to bring you this and to ask if there is anything else, Himura-san." The boy's voice held respect and Kenshin smiled at the bitter irony of that. 

"I require nothing more," he replied softly, as he turned to see some food on a tray and a roll of bandages beside a bucket of water.

The boy bowed his way out of the room, leaving Kenshin alone. He cleaned the wound on his back as best he could and wrapped bandages tightly around his broken ribs and the cut. Then he sat down to eat the food he'd been given, before leaning against the wall and falling into a light sleep.

*

He awoke with a start, his hand going immediately for the katana that rested against his shoulder. His eyes blinked rapidly when he realized that there were no enemies out for his blood, except for the ones in his own head. He slowed his breathing and looked out the window, seeing that it was nearly sunrise.

He quickly rose and shook out his clothing, wincing a little at the pain this simply movement caused to his back and ribs. He slipped from the room and out onto the street before the man and his son woke.

"No need to put them in any farther danger."

He followed a long circuitous route back to the inn, making certain he was not followed.

"Himura-san…you're hurt…"

Kenshin waved the innkeeper's frantic attempts to help him away and asked her where Iizuka might be found.

"Who knows where that man has gotten to…Now, please let me tend to those wounds…"

Kenshin was just weary enough to let her change the bandages and apply some medicine on his wounds. By the time she was finished he felt almost like his old self and certainly more alive then he had a moment before. He went back to his rooms and assured her that he would not be going on any 'special jobs' for anyone in the near future.

"I just hope I can convince Katsura-san of this," he thought, wincing again as his ribs protested his movements.

An hour later, he went out in search of Iizuka. After searching most of his regular haunts, Kenshin found him at a market stall flirting with one of the girls who worked there. He barely paid attention to the girl, who had started to flirt with him in the hopes of making Iizuka jealous, and tapped him on the shoulder to get his attention. Iizuka's eyes widened for a moment in surprise before he excused himself to follow Kenshin.

"Himura, what happened? Everyone thought you had been killed," he said, sounding genuinely concerned for the young hitokiri.

"Nothing I couldn't handle but Katsura-san is correct…I need to be more careful."

Iizuka remained silent, taking a quick look around the marketplace. "Let me buy you a drink."

Kenshin shook his head. "No, I need to speak to Katsura-san now. The job given to me was not completed."

He said this in a voice barely above a whisper and his hand balled into a fist, as a surge of rage swept over him. He held it in check and the only outward sign of it was his clenched fist and a momentary amber glow in his eyes. Iizuka moved back at Himura's enraged look but then moved closer to the hitokiri.

"Katsura-san is in one of his safe houses. I'll take you there as soon as I eat. I'm famished." Iizuka paused at one of the stalls to buy some food and then sat to eat it.

Kenshin's eyes narrowed impatiently, but he sat down next to him, glad that he had already eaten. His eyes darted around the marketplace, scanning the crowd from under the fall of his hair, seemingly unconcerned. Suddenly, he stiffened, although no one else would have noticed that he did so. Kenshin's eyes widened a fraction. There had been a familiar face in the crowd. Kenshin scanned the crowd again but the man had vanished. Kenshin shook his head. He had seen the man's face somewhere before, somewhere recently.

"But where?"

Kenshin had learned, early on, to keep an eye out for anything unusual or out of place. That was the way a hitokiri survived. He had heard the other men talking, marveling at the fact that he had lasted as long as he had as hitokiri, when most others barely lasted two months. The reason for his 'success' as a hitokiri was that he possessed an uncanny awareness of his surroundings and a near perfect memory. This, combined with the god-like speed of his Hiten Mitsurugi Ryuu, made him the 'perfect' hitokiri.

He knew who belonged in the market at this time of day and that man he had seen was not one of the 'regulars'. An alarm was going off inside his head and he kept his sense on alert as he and Iizuka left the market. Iizuka lead him down a side street and then back again to the main one. Kenshin followed, paying little attention to where they were going; still puzzling over the familiar face he had seen in the crowd.

Suddenly, his head snapped up and he slide into the shadows of nearby alley as a troop of samurai came into view. Iizuka kept walking as if nothing were amiss. Kenshin watched as he allowed the troop to pass him, his head bowed in respect for those of higher rank. The troop came closer and Kenshin could see that they were samurai allied with the Aizu clan. He moved farther back into the shadows as they came abreast of his hiding place. He could hear them talking as they passed him.

"Damn Battousai! I want to take his head!" one muttered darkly.

  
"Calm yourself, Yusuke. Our lord will soon be avenged…just as soon as…"

The voices trailed off as they moved out of Kenshin's hearing range. Kenshin longed to follow them and hear the rest of the conversation but there was no way for him to do so without being seen. His eyes followed the Aizu samurai and he memorized the face of the one who had made the threat against him.

After they had passed out of sight, Kenshin left the shadowy embrace of the alley and followed the path Iizuka had taken. He met the man at the next street and they continued to the safe house in silence.


	6. Chapter Five

Tales of the Mitsurugi Dragon: Shadow of Shadows

By: Hitokiri Gentatsu

A/N: Gomen Nasai for the long delay but I was helping my roommate move and I had moved things around, temporarily losing the disk it was on. Please forgive me for this and enjoy the next chapter. ^_^x

Chapter Five: Traitor's Heart

"That is what has been given me. Besides, I will not live for long"

Hitokiri Battousai

Katsura had the look of a man that had been awake all night. His normally sharp, black eyes looked dull and there were circles under them. His face was set in a frown and his hand slashed through the air as he gesticulated with it. Kenshin could see that he was talking to three other men and they were discussing the merits of a plan but he paid little attention to it. He felt the flaring of multiple ki. One of the men was angry, almost angry enough to draw his sword. 

Kenshin's eyes narrowed for a moment and he slipped into the room to stand at Katsura's right hand. He gave the man in question a pointed look that clearly warned him off, before sitting at Katsura's right, his katana resting on his shoulder. He bowed his head, his eyes hidden by a fall of red, feigning indifference and waiting for the meeting to end, trusting that his presence would forestall any more 'arguments'.

Katsura's eyes brightened considerable at Kenshin's entrance. He had been worried about the young man all night. He had heard that Kenshin had not yet returned to the inn and when a hitokiri did not return it normally meant that someone had taken him down.

::Trust Himura to be stronger than that.::

As Katsura continued the interrupted discussion with renewed vigor, he looked at Himura closely. Though there were no visible signs of any wounds, he could tell that Himura had been hurt by the hard line of his mouth and the faint trace of pain around his eyes. Someone had managed to get through his defenses, a rarity. Katsura frowned.

The debate continued for some minutes, during which Kenshin remained motionless, too worn out from the previous night's battles to find the energy to move. When it ended, Kenshin sighed in relief that no sword had been drawn and thanked the gods that his skills were not required for if they had been the men would have found his earlier warning to be a bluff.

"I am relieved to see you, Himura." Katsura said from beside him. "Everyone thought you were dead when you didn't return."

"I heard," he said quietly as Katsura moved to sit in front of him. Kenshin locked eyes with his lord for a moment before dropping his gaze again.

"You were wounded in the fight." Katsura's words were a statement rather then a question.

"I will require time to heal."

Katsura merely nodded. "I will send someone else in your place."

Kenshin bowed and then took the black envelope from his sleeve, attempting to give it back to Katsura. He shook his head and locked eyes with Himura.

"Those men are still your targets. They will merely be getting a reprieve from death." Kenshin closed his eyes and bowed, though Katsura thought he saw sorrow in the young man's eyes. "For the moment just rest."

"I will," Kenshin bowed again and then rose.

"Himura," Katsura called to him and he turned to look back at him. "There may be traitors about. Watch yourself."

Kenshin's eyes narrowed and for a moment Katsura thought he saw them flash amber. Kenshin gave one curt nod and left the room. Iizuka came around the corner and fell into step next to him as the hitokiri left the building.

"What do you say we go get some sake?" Iizuka said once they got outside the building clearly in good mood for some reason that Kenshin couldn't fathom.

"No, I think I'll go back to the inn and rest," he said not looking at Iizuka.

"Suit yourself. Maybe another time." Iizuka sauntered off in the direction of the market, while Kenshin kept walking back to the inn.

Briefly Kenshin wondered about Iizuka. He always seemed to be wherever Kenshin was and he always seemed to be so cheerful even though Kenshin saw very little to be cheerful about. Maybe that was just the way Iizuka was. Kenshin shook off the nagging feeling that something was not quite right about him and returned to the inn, keeping a careful if not obvious eye on the people around him.

*

The inn lay in silence, most of the men having gone out about their own business for the day. Kenshin was glad of this because it afforded him time alone. It was rare that he wanted to be alone but he needed some time by himself to sort some things out in his mind. He got some food from the kitchen and went to his rooms to eat it, having no stomach for the concern showed to him by the kitchen maids. After finishing his meal, he opened all the windows and some of the doors to let the breeze move through his somewhat stuffy rooms. He sat in one of the windows with his back against a stack of books and his sword against his shoulder, watching the people below him, briefly wondering about their lives.

He didn't want to admit it, but the words of the man he had fought the previous night bothered him. They touched something deep inside his soul, something that lay hidden under his hitokiri mask. He had killed that man's father without a thought for the consequences of that action, without a care for lives left behind and in defending himself last night he had now also killed that man's son. With both of them dead, how would the rest of their family survive? What would they do without a father or son to provide for them? Kenshin shook his head, feeling regret and guilt in his heart.

"How many have I killed? How many widows and orphans have I created all for the sake of an ideal?" He looked blankly at his hands, seeing them stained with the blood of those he had slain. "How many more lives must I take? When will this all end?"

He stared back out the window at the people on the streets below him and knew he was far below even the lowest of them in station; the lives he had taken and the blood that permeated his very being made it so. He would never know a normal life now that he had chosen the path of the hitokiri over any other. Happiness was, for him, as unattainable as the stars and his heart would know no peace now or ever. He tried to push these thoughts from his mind but they persisted.

"Why am I letting these thoughts bother me so? I will not live beyond my usefulness as a hitokiri. Someday I will be slain, by friend or foe…it doesn't matter because my life does not matter. I'm just a hitokiri, only that. I cannot have regrets…cannot afford that luxury or weakness. I have no feeling beyond the loyalty I own my lord and the duty he has given me. That is all I have now."

Kenshin fell into a fitful slumber, still regretting the choice he made in haste.

*

Three weeks passed before Battousai was 'seen' on the streets of Kyoto again. The Shinsengumi, believing the rumor that the Hitokiri Battousai had been killed, had stopped patrolling the streets, concentrating instead on finding the safe houses of the rebels and questioning those they managed to capture. Battousai smiled, his cold eyes sweeping the alley for any sign of his foes. He ran silently, his god-like speed making him appear as a nothing more then a blur to anyone who happened to see him. But thankfully the alley remained empty and the people behind the walls of the houses that made up the alley slept, unaware that silent death stalked the city once more. 

After several moments of silent running, Battousai came to a stop at the back gate of one of the smaller estates of lower ranking Shogunate official. The target he was seeking was supposedly in a meeting with that official at this moment, passing Ishinishi secrets he had learned to the Shogunate by pretending to be the Ishin's strongest supporter. He was the traitor in their ranks and Katsura had ordered Kenshin to slay him before he could cause any more people to lose their lives and before he could pass on any more Ishin secrets to the enemy.

Battousai slipped into the compound by simply jumping over the fence into the back garden. He landed on the balls of his feet, making no sound that would alert others to his presence. There appeared to be no guards around the perimeter of the house and no samurai within the building itself that he could sense. His smile widened.

"Their guard is down. All the better. No wasted lives here. No need to kill more men to reach the target…"

He moved silently within the shadows, making his way carefully to the house and searching for his prey. Moments passed without incident and, without a sound, Battousai slide a door open and entered the dark and eerily silent house, alarms going off inside his head. Wasn't it a little too dark and silent? He continued to walk carefully down the hall, making no sound, he senses alert for danger.

The house around him remained wrapped in silent darkness. There appeared to be no one around and no meeting going on. Had their information be incorrect? Was the meeting being held elsewhere? Briefly he wondered about the source of this information.

"Shimmate, where could they all be?" Battousai began to run down the hall, hoping that he was wrong and that his target was still somewhere around. It was then that he heard a sound, the small click of a gun being primed in a room off to his left and the faint rustling of clothing to his right.

"Ambush…" he thought just a second before the report of a gun echoed in the enclosed space. Battousai managed to duck before the bullet found its target, though he did feel the hair on his head move as it passed overhead.

The doors on both sides of him opened and samurai poured out of the rooms, surrounding him. His narrow amber eyes took them in with no emotion, his mouth set in a snarl and a hand strayed to the hilt of his katana. A man stepped forward and stood in front of him.

"Tanaka…" Battousai hissed. "Traitor…why?"

"Because the Ishinshi cannot prevail. The battle is hopeless…surely even you can see this, Battousai."

Battousai shook his head, his eyes never leaving those of his opponent: "I do not believe that…" 

Tanaka drew his katana and signaled to the men, who charged Battousai with their katana drawn. In a few minutes the hall was littered with the bodies of the dead or dying and the floor was slick with their blood. Battousai flicked the blood from his sword and walked toward his target, fire burning in his eyes.

"Traitor. Because of you, many have died needlessly. I have come to bring you Tenchuu," he hissed, his voice cold and flat.

"There are more so-called traitors within the Ishin, more than you will ever discover. We will bring the Ishinshi to their knees. But in order to do that we have to remove the Shogunate's worst threat…you!" As he shouted the final word, Battousai heard the click of multiple guns and watched as several men stepped from the shadows behind Tanaka.

Battousai grimaced and began to move forward just as shots rent the air. He felt one bullet graze his leg and another his cheek. A third bullet flew harmlessly over his head to lodge itself in a wooden support beam. He continued forward and soon reached the gunmen, who stood trembling with fear. He cleanly severed their head from their bodies and, as their bodies fell, he leapt over them to stand before Tanaka.

"Enough of your games! Fight and die!" Battousai advanced farther while Tanaka retreated slightly. "You are responsible for the death or capture of many of our men. You will pay for that."

Tanaka laughed and drew his own weapon, charging at Battousai with an overhead attack that was quickly blocked. Tanaka's foot snaked out and Battousai tripped, falling in a heap to the floor, having not anticipated that attack.

"You will die here, Battousai. I will send you to hell myself. With you out of the way there will be nothing to stop the Shogun's forces from claiming victory."

He advanced again, his sword swinging down in an arc meant to sever Battousai's head. Battousai rolled out of the way and stood, finding himself trapped in a corner of the hall with Tanaka once more advancing swiftly toward him. Battousai crouched in battou-jutsu stance and waited for his opponent to come within range. When Tanaka was in position, he drew his katana in a blur of motion but instead of feeling it cut through flesh, Battousai felt it hit a wooden support. He felt a stinging sensation and was surprised to see a wound opening on his sword hand. He gripped his katana harder and gave it a pull, trying to dislodge it from the beam. It wouldn't budge and Battousai heard the sound of a sword whistling over his head. He ducked under the blow, feeling the air over his head move as he tugged harder on the hilt but the katana's blade remained embedded in the wood.

He cursed silently and pulled at the hilt again just as he heard the report of a gun. He felt a white hot pain in his right shoulder and his hand jerked away from his sword. He felt himself slipping to the floor and he felt something hard strike him from behind.

"Now I will send you to hell as punishment for your many crimes, Hitokiri Battousai." These were the last words he heard before the darkness on the edge of his vision closed in around him.

*

"Shinta…Shinta…you must wake now. Please…"

A soft feminine voice called to him through the darkness. His shoulder was burning with pain and his head seemed to be throbbing in time with his heart.

"Shinta please wake…" the voice urged and Kenshin slowly opened blurry eyes and lay there blinking at the strange orange ceiling, a puzzled frown on his face.

"Shinta…there's fire…get up… get out…" the voice said urgently and it was then that he noticed the flames dancing above him.

He sat up quickly, too quickly and the room began to spin.

"Concentrate Himura," he thought to himself as he forced the room to stop its spinning. What he saw when it finally did caused his eyes to widen in surprise.

The room around him was a raging inferno.

He scrambled backward, away from the flames and heard the creaking of timbers above him. He looked up and saw a huge support beam over his head, wreathed in flames. The beam creaked again, making a popping sound as a shower of sparks rained down on him. Kenshin threw an arm over his head to protect it from the sparks, panic moving through him.

"Have to get out…" he coughed as the smoke entered his lungs.

He looked around but the flames were closing in on him from all directions, their crackling taking on the sound of cruel laughter.

"I don't want to die here…not like this…" he closed his eyes against the flames and folded his arms over his face, crashing through the rice paper and wood wall behind him, which was the only wall not in flames. 

He found himself in another long dark hallway, flames burning around him. He coughed as more smoke entered his lungs and he could feel the heat of the flames, both in the room he had just escaped from and in the room across from him.

"Trapped…" His thoughts became a chaotic jumble and panic took control of his body, leaving him unable to do anything but stare at the flames inching closer to him. 

Then Battousai asserted himself and stilled the panicked fear in Kenshin's soul. His narrow amber eyes took in the situation and calmly assessed it with a speed that rivaled the Hiten Mitsurugi's god-like speed. There were only two options: up and down. Battousai pulled the wakazashi from his belt and studied both the ceiling above and the floor beneath his feet as the flames licked closer to his position.

"Hurry…" the panicked voice in his head urged.

Battousai silenced Kenshin's voice and decided that the wiser course was below his feet. He knelt down on the floor and with god-like speed, cut the boards around him before re-sheathing the weapon. The boards gave way beneath him and he landed under the house, crouching there for a moment as the fall jarred his wounded shoulder, which was now throbbing in reaction to his use of it. 

He hissed in pain and put a hand over the burning wound as he searched for any sign of people. Seeing no one around, Battousai slipped from under the burning house and sprinted to the nearest available cover, a small stand of bamboo and weeping willows. Once there, he fell to his knees unable to move, having used all of his remaining strength just to reach this dubious bit of cover.

"Must move…must leave…cannot be found here…" But the blackness refused to clear from his vision and he felt himself fall forward as it rose to claim him a second time.


	7. Chapter Six

Tales of the Mitsurugi Dragon: Shadow of Shadows

BY Hitokiri Gentatsu

A/N: Well, here I am again with another update for this story. I would like to thank all of you who have been reviewing this one. It really makes me happy. Hope you will enjoy this chapter. ^_^x Remember to read and review.

Chapter Six: Captive

"You must live a full life for the sake of those who died here tonight. Shinta, please live…live of me."

Sakura

Tsuioku Hen

Kenshin woke with a start and blinked at the ceiling that presented itself to him. His violet gaze held confusion as he tried to piece together what had happened.

"You will be all right. Just relax," a quiet voice over his head told him.

He nodded and was just about to slip back into slumber when he realized that the voice above him was unfamiliar. His eyes snapped open again and he searched the room for the speaker. A sharp-featured man sat next to him, drinking tea. His clothing was plain, with no visible crests and the wakazashi at his side was likewise plain. There was nothing that would indicate this man's rank or even his clan affiliation.

The man smiled, but it looked as if his face was unaccustomed to doing so. 

"So you're awake. Good. Now you can tell me what you were doing at the Yoshiro residence three night passed."

The man's question was more of a statement and Kenshin looked at him in utter confusion as he tried to remember what happened. Everything was a blur in his mind. The only thing he remembered was the need to escape the fire that was raging within the building.

"I don't remember…" he whispered, trying to buy himself some time to think.

The sharp-featured man tried another tack. "Who are you?"

Suddenly Kenshin remembered everything about the night in question. His eyes flashed amber for a moment but he hid it quickly by bowing his head to the man as one would bow to one of higher station then your own.

"I am merely a servant, sir. My name is Shinta."

"Only a servant? Then explain why you carried a wakazashi." He laid the blade in question in front of Kenshin, who recognized it as his own. "And why this blade is a perfect match for a katana found at the scene. Perhaps you are a thief or maybe something more?"

The man's question hung in the air like a poison. Kenshin knew he was in danger of being discovered. He could feel the man's ki beat against his own and he struggled to keep Battousai in check. If he was going to get out of this alive he needed to remain calm.

"I am neither. Those swords belong to my master. He bade me fetch them for him when he heard the noise of battle in the hall. Then he gave me the wakazashi and told me to find a patrol and bring them." He hung his head and acted pathetic. " I never even made it out of the compound. I felt a sharp pain in my shoulder and fell."

The man grunted and then grabbed a handful of Kenshin's hair, pulling his head up so that he could look into Kenshin's eyes. He looked deeply into them, as if he could see into Kenshin's very soul. Kenshin looked at the man fearfully as a servant would when coming into eye contact with a superior. He winced as the man pulled his hair again.

"There is more to you then there appears on the surface. You will remain our prisoner until I am satisfied as to your true identity." The man pushed him away and Kenshin had no choice but to let himself land face first on the futon or risk giving himself away.

Kenshin heard the man walk across the room and slide the door open. He glanced through his fiery bangs, to mark the door's location and his heart froze in his chest. Another man was passing the door as it opened and Kenshin recognized the profile. He barely heard the other man call for the doctor to return. He knew where he had to be and he didn't need to see a uniform or the crest of a clan to prove it to himself.

He was now the prisoner of the Mibu clan.

*

A few moments later the doctor appeared and gave Kenshin some medicinal tea to drink to ease the coughing caused by the smoke he had inhaled. Kenshin took the tea and drank, his mind working furiously on the problem of how to escape from the headquarters of his foes without endangering anyone's life.

The doctor watched the young man closely, wondering exactly who he was and why the Shinsengumi and the clan had bothered to bring him here. Ordinarily, this would have been a routine police matter that the locals could deal with.

"Not that anything is routine these days. But still…"

The young man took another drink of tea and then laid back down on the futon without a word, seemingly deep in thought. His eyes shifted to the doctor from time to time.

"Arigatou," the man's soft voice broke the silence of the room and the doctor started in surprise.

"You're quite welcome. Just lie down and rest. I'll be back later to check on you." The young man smiled and nodded and the doctor left the room.

Kenshin closed his eyes and tried to do as the doctor requested. It would do him no good to try and escape until he was somewhat stronger.

*

A week passed and the rasping sound in Kenshin's chest receded. He stopped coughing and his vision was now clearer. He could feel his strength returning to him but he never allowed anyone to see how rapidly he was recovering. Several members of the Mibu clan as well as some of the Shinsengumi and the doctor had questioned him about his doings on the night of the fire and Kenshin was very careful to stick to the same story he had used the first night.

"How much longer can I keep this up though?" he thought as he slowly ate the food in front of him.

-"We need to escape soon. We cannot be seen…we must kill them all and return to Katsura-san. He looks for us."- Battousai growled, the close proximity of so many foes keeping him on constant edge.

Kenshin could feel Battousai's rage building inside him but even Battousai agreed that a fight against an unknown number of opponents was unwise.

"We will make a move when the time is right and not before," he thought and he heard Battousai mutter and then subside.

The door of the room slide open and Okita Soushi entered the room, regarding Kenshin with a bemused expression on his cheerful face. Kenshin bowed to him and fixed him with a brief, somewhat surprised stare, hoping there was enough surprise in his eyes.

"What is it, master?" he said quietly, his eyes dropping from Okita's face.

"There is someone here to see you, Shinta," he said and Kenshin looked up again.

A man entered the room, the wicker hat he wore hiding his features. He looked up and Kenshin recognized Katsura's second in command, Katagai. Relief flooded through him, even as fear for the other man's safety warred with it.

"It is you…we had given up hope of finding you alive…but here you are…Otosan has been worried sick about you."

"Is it really you?" Kenshin's eyes widened in reaction, acting surprised to see the other man.

Katagai turned to Okita, a look of relief on his face. "What can we do to repay your kindness?"

Okita was about to answer when a voice cut in.

"You and your 'brother' do not share a family resemblance," the sharp voice said and Katagai turned to face the speaker who stood blocking the doorway.

Kenshin bowed his head and watched the man through narrowed eyes hidden beneath his bangs.

"He is not my brother, sir. He is a family servant whose parents died when he was very young. His mother begged us to look after her son. Otosan took a special liking to him."

"How did you find out he was here and what was he doing at the site of murder and arson?" the man continued, his narrow amber eyes glinting.

"We had sent Shinta to work at the house a month ago. When we heard about the fire, we thought we had lost him but then there was a rumor on the streets of a boy that had been saved from the fire…" Katagai's voice trembled, and Kenshin did his best to appear to be an innocent boy. "We had given up hope of finding him alive. Otosan is very ill and this has made him worse."

Kenshin's eyes widened at the mention of this. "I have to go to him…he needs to know that I am well. Please may I go?"

Okita grinned at him and turned to the other man, whose face was still hidden in the shadows.

"Saito-san?" he questioned, clearly wanting nothing more then to reunite this family.

Saito, however, was loath to let the two of them go. Something felt wrong about this but he was unable to determine what caused his unease. He looked at the red-haired boy in front of him. The child exuded innocence and the bluish eyes that looked up at him were full of confusion and pleading.

"But still there is something…" he thought to himself, watching as the boy dropped his gaze. "Something is strange about him."

Saito stretched out his ki and touched the boy's own, feeling nothing but the same innocence he had felt before. Still there was something vaguely unsettling about the boy, a feeling of menace that was at odds with the boy's show of innocent youth.

"Sir…Sir…Can I go now? Shinta looked up at him again and Saito realize that he had been silent for several moments longer then was necessary.

"Yes you may," he said and the boy face broke into a smile.

"Let us go now, Shinta. Father is waiting." Katagai said before turning to the two men. "Arigatou for saving him. If I can ever be of assistance, let me know."

He bowed at the two men and led Shinta from the room. As soon as they left the building, Saito turned to Okita and whispered. "Have them followed. There is something strange about our former guest. I want to find out where he goes."

Okita looked confused but he nodded and went on search of some men to send after them. Saito left the room and headed for another intent on getting information about the boy and the daisho that had been left at the scene.

"I will have the answers that I seek."

*

Kenshin and Katagai walked down the busy Kyoto street, saying nothing. Both men tensed when they felt the presence of several samurai some paces behind them.

"They are closing, two from the east and three west with two more above." Kenshin said quietly as Katagai nodded.

"Katsura is at the Iris safe house," he replied, looking up at the sky.

"We should separate soon. We can't endanger him or the cause. I can deal with them." Battousai's cold voice chilled Katagai.

"You have no weapon, Himura."

Battousai gave him a sidelong glance before his eyes dropped to the two swords Katagai wore.

"I only need one weapon," he whispered, his amber eyes never leaving the road in front of him, although he felt the men around them moving closer.

Katagai looked over at the young assassin, who now seemed to have become another person altogether. The coldness of Battousai's voice sent chills down his spine and he wanted nothing more than to get away from the young man.

"If we separate, they will know something's amiss," he said as he watched the Battousai tense.

"The fact that they are having us followed means that they already know something's amiss. Someone must have seen though my act." Battousai's voice was flat and his face expressionless. "We need to silence those men. There is no other choice, you know that as well as I."

Katagai nodded, hearing his heart beating wildly in his ears. Katsura's hitokiri scared him and being this close to his rage was nearly overwhelming but his face remained calm. He slid his wakazashi from his belt and handed it to Battousai without looking at him.

"Be careful," he whispered and when he looked up, Battousai was gone. 

Katagai sighed and continued down the street as if nothing had happened. He felt the men behind him stop following. He paused at a noodle stand and took a quick look behind him before moving on toward one of the inns, knowing that Himura would reach there as soon as he had silenced the men.

*

Battousai took the wakazashi and melted, without a sound, into the shadow of the alley they were passing. He crouched there, tense and the rage of the hitokiri filling him. He narrowed his eyes into slits and felt the seven men moving cautiously toward him. Somewhere ahead of his current position he felt three more enemies moving toward him.

"Ten…" he thought, trying to calculate how best to deal with them all. He watched the people passing the mouth of the alley, his eyes shifting from amber, to bluish purple and to amber again in the space of a heartbeat.

His eyes moved toward the sky and he grimaced. It was still at least an hour before sunset. He narrowed his eyes again, feeling the enemy inch ever closer to his position.

"I can't kill them here. Too many witnesses nearby…I don't want to kill innocents. I have to lead them away from here."

He slipped down the alley and stood in a shaft of early evening sunlight, waiting for them to come. When the men paused near the alley, he bent down and picked up a loose bit of rock, flinging it in the direction of the alley's mouth.

The sound created by it produced immediate results. Three men appeared at the mouth of the alley, while four more appeared on the roofs above him. Battousai stood there, his arms folded and his narrow amber eyes glinting the fading light.

"So you thought I wouldn't notice you following." The men flinched at the sound of his voice. "You should no better than to try to follow the Hitokiri Battousai."

The words had the desired effect. The men sprang after him and he ran down the alley, leading them away from the innocents on the main street. He could hear the running footsteps of the now ten men behind him and he smiled a cold smile as he felt the need to kill sing in his veins.

Battousai ran down the alley and then made a sharp turn to the left, darting down another alley. He heard one man slip behind him and his grin widened. He continued to run, listening to the sounds behind him. After two more turns in the twisting alley Battousai heard one of the men pull ahead of the others.

"Just a few moments more…"

Battousai continued to run, listening to the sound behind him and counting off seconds in his head. When he was satisfied that his other pursuers were far enough behind, he turned and drew the blade of the wakazashi, sweeping it in an arc and ducking under the longer reach of the other man's katana.

The man's warm blood stained Battousai's hands crimson and he fell to the ground, his sword flying from his grasp to land at Battousai's right hand. He flicked the blood away from the wakazashi with a sharp movement and resheathed the weapon. 

Battousai turned to look at the other men that ran toward him, like a pack of demented creatures, furious with the death of one of their own at the hand of a mere boy. Battousai smirked at them, his amber glowing eerily in the rapidly forming darkness, before he took off down the alley again, now armed with the dead man's katana.

The Shinsengumi spies followed him, forgetting everything about stealth and teamwork in their rage to kill the Ishin hitokiri. Battousai smiled and led his prey for hours in a race all over the alleys of Kyoto that he knew so well. Finally he stood facing his last winded opponent. The two combatants glared at each other with cold hatred, their harsh breathing sounding deafening in the otherwise silent alleyway. Battousai rushed the man, aiming a slice at his throat and was surprised by the sword that blocked his strike. He glared back at the man and made a second charge, twisting his body so that he danced out of his opponent's reach just after striking.

Though his aim was true, the blow was again blocked. He stepped back and looked at his opponent again. The Shinsengumi was smirking at him and a small laugh escaped him but he said nothing. Battousai resheathed his katana and waited, but the man refused to attack. Battousai's patience snapped and rage filled him.

"I will kill you now," he growled, his eye burning an intense and angry amber.

The man stood there and pointed his katana at the Battousai but said nothing. Battousai snarled and charged, caring little for anything except to conclude the battle and return home to rest. His opponent refused to allow this though and an hour later found Battousai trapped between the wall of a building behind him and his opponent, who had refused to yield even an inch.

Kenshin looked at the sky overhead, trying to judge the hour and he was surprised to find it nearing sunrise.

"Shimmatte!" he thought angrily, knowing that Katsura and Katagai would wonder what had become of him.

Battousai looked around, looking for anything that might help him defeat his stronger opponent. The man was surely a master of his sword school and for a moment Battousai felt a shadow of doubt creep into his soul. He was not a master of Hiten Mitsurugi, only nearly so. Facing this man showed him that he was at a distinct disadvantage when facing someone who was an experienced swordsmaster.

"There must be a way to defeat him. I can't let him live."

The Shinsengumi remained motionless before him, smirking at Battousai as if he knew the secret he had carefully hidden even from Katsura. Battousai narrowed his eyes and watched the man closely. The man's grip on his katana appeared to be loose but he knew that apparent laziness of grip was a ruse. The man moved restlessly, his weight going from one foot to the other and his eyes shifting restlessly from side to side.

"He's going to attack now, trying to finish me off." Battousai wasn't sure how he knew this but in an instant he 'saw' the move before it came and his mind found a way to counter it.

The Shinsengumi made the move that Battousai had somehow predicted and found that, as the Battousai's own blocked his sword, that the hitokiri had used his left hand to draw the wakazashi from his belt and had sliced him across his exposed throat. The man dropped his sword and grabbed at his throat but it was already too late. His eyes dimmed as he slide to the ground, wearing a look of shocked disbelief.

Battousai stared at the man a few moments before turning away from the surprised look on the man's face. He walked down the alley, never once looking back, his mind occupied with his newly discovered ability. Maybe it would help him survive a little longer.


	8. Chapter Seven

Tales of the Mitsurugi Dragon: Shadow of Shadows

By: Hitokiri Gentatsu

Chapter Seven: Damnation

"Himura?" Katsura looked at his young hitokiri, concern in his voice.

Kenshin blinked in response, his mind obviously elsewhere. Then Katsura saw a mask drop over the boy's features.

"Hai, Katsura-san?" The cold voice was full of deference for his lord but the hitokiri neither bowed not took his eyes from the shadowed path ahead of them.

"Are you well?" Katsura looked into the golden amber of Battousai's eyes, studying them.

"Hai." The reply was curt and held a note that clearly warned off further questions.

The three other bodyguards looked between them and then back to Katsura, wondering what he would do. They all found the red-haired young samurai to be a bit unnerving, though they were not quite sure why. There was something, a feeling of danger about him and they were on edge because if it. He obviously had Katsura's trust, for no one was allowed to get near him who did not, but none of the three knew anything about this Himura or where he had come from.

Katsura nodded at the young man and walked silently on, giving the young man no sharp words or repremands for his seemingly rude actions. One of the guards could not take the supposed slight to the lord his family had served for generations and attempted to draw his sword. The other two guards gasped in surprise, while Katsura stood unmoving, watching the events unfold before him and hoping that Himura would not kill his most trusted bodyguard.

The guard, whose name was Shouji, blinked in surprise and only his training prevented him from crying out in fear. In less than a minute, his sword had been taken from him and he found himself face to face with the red-haired samurai. The young man had his katana across Shouji's throat, its deadly edge digging into flesh. The samurai's face was just inches from his own and that face was a mask of barely contained rage. The young man's eyes where glowing pits of amber fire that held only death in them. Shouji took a gulp of air, very sure that it would be his last. 

"Do not ever draw a weapon on me." The man's soft voice was cold and deadly. "If you do so again you will be dead before you could defend yourself with it."

His eyes bore into Shouji's, demanding a response. Shouji gulped again and nodded and the young man released him, flicking the end of his blade before resheathing his own katana in one smooth motion. Shouji felt himself go limp with relief and he returned to his position behind Katsura.

The party continued down the alley, Himura in the lead. Battousai's narrow-eyed gaze took in everything around him. He searched the shadows for enemies and kept his sense open, seeking threats hidden by the shadows of a moonless night. Battousai felt his thought beginning to stray again and he looked up at the stars briefly while looking at the roofs of buildings around him, remember another night.

--Kenshin's chores for the day were finished and the evening meal had long since been eaten. The stars made a blanket overhead and Kenshin lay on his back, grass waving over his head, his violet eyes trained on the starry expanse above. The stars twinkled like so many distant fireflies and Kenshin felt at peace just watching them, even if his days of late where not so peaceful.

"Shisho doesn't understand...so many are suffering...Yet he insists I stay here...that we leave the world to suffer."

His master, Hiko, was somewhere around the place but Kenshin did not feel like dealing with the man right now. They would only end up fighting again and there had been to much of that of late.

"He never understands me. He tells me that the Hiten Mitsurugi's first principle is to protect other people from the pain of the times but he refuses to do so."

Normally he would already be asleep, to tired from his training to stay wake but not this night. Instead of train today, he had been sent to the nearby village to buy supplies for the winter that was fast coming. He had heard the news of war while there.

"I want to fight...I have to...I can't just stay here. But I am not ready...not yet. Someday soon though...Someday I will join the battle even if Shisho will not. I have to...its a matter of honor."

He narrowed his eyes at the stars above as he made this vow. --

*

Battousai tore his eyes away from the stars and his mind away from the memories they brought. Dwelling on the past would serve no purpose here. What was done, was done and nothing could change it. Still, there was a part of him that wondered why things between his master and himself had changed. 

"I couldn't allow the suffering I had seen and experienced go on. People should not suffer, they should be happy as I once was. I had to do something and yet..." Battousai's hand unconsciously began to rub itself across his hakama, as if to remove dirt from them. "Was there a better way than this?"

He could clearly hear his master's voice, the words ringing in his ears. 'You would slaughter thousands so that a few may live.'Battousai frowned as he watched the road in front of him, wishing an enemy would appear so that he could release some of his frustrations in a fight but none did.

Katsura arrived at the meeting without incident and he and his guards went inside. Kenshin took up a position near his lord, sitting just behind Katsura as part of the ring of guards around him. Unlike the other guards, Battousai sat in a lazy position, with his head bowed and his sword at his should. The other bodyguards looked at him strangly but wisely decided to remain silent about it.

Battousai paid very little attention to the meeting and even less to the other guards around Katsura. His covert attention was on the other people in the room and the possibility of threats from outside. He kept his senses tuned; looking for anything out of place, while his thought turned inward. It was already to late for him to turn from the path he had chosen to walk. Kenshin knew that all to well. No matter what he tried to do, the smell of death and blood would always cling to him. He resigned himself to the short and bloody life of a hitokiri for the hope of creating a world were children would not have to live in fear. That was his purpose and thus, for what remained of his life, he would serve as the hitokiri even at the cost of his soul.

The room began to feel chill but he ignored it and turned his thoughts to the secret he was hiding from Katsura. His mind had been debating over whether or not to tell him.

"I cannot. I must never let him know that I am not the master swordsman he believe me to be. I will just have to compensate for this lack by excelling at the battoujutsu and mastering the art of reading my opponents weaknesses."

The meeting around him began to break up and he took his place at the head of the guards around Katsura still deep in thought.

*

The night was still and the moon overhead was only partically visible but Battousai paid little heed of it or the stars blanketing the sky. Instead his mind was occupied with the hunt. The coppery smell of blood clung to his nostrils and his mouth was set in a narrow frown. The body of his latest target lay in a pool of blood three alleys over from where he now sedately walked, the wind making his high ponytail move as if it had a life of its own. He walked quietly, showing no sign that he been doing anything other than returning late to his home. He could hear the whistles of a patrol and he smiled coldly, knowing they had found his handywork already. This did not worry him though, for they would never suspect him.

Three months had passed and it had added some height and weight to his body. He would never be tall but he was looking less like a boy now then when he first came to Kyoto. There were other changes as well that even Katsura who hardly saw the boy noticed. Kenshin was colder and more ruthless than he had been before. His ability to kill had increased; his targets barely had time to react or even to scream anymore and he was usually able to dispatch them in one attack. Never one to do much talking to begin with, he had become totally silent unless spoken too first and then he would speak in a flat monotone that carried no emotion whatsoever. Whatever he was thinking was completely masked.

Katsura worried constantly about the mental state of his young hitokiri, believing that somewhere deep inside Himura was agonizing over each kill. Somewhere he realised what he was doing and becoming and Himura had locked that part of himself away. It mattered little to Katsura that Himura was acting as of nothing was wrong and as if his conscious was not being stained by the deaths he caused. Katsura was sure the coldness the hitokiri showed to others was just an act, a mask he was employing to protect that part of himself that was regretting his actions but there seemed to be no way of reaching that part of Himura anymore. What was even worse was the fact that Himura insisted on taking only the most dangerous of assignments now. It was almost as if the young man was asking for death to come and claim him.

Katsura stared out of the window of the current safe house but saw nothing there. Perhaps he had been wrong to involve someone so young in the dirty work of a hitokiri. Maybe he should have chosen someone more hardened to war, someone older. Himura was extremely skilled and his sword technique was by far the strongest Katsura had ever seen but he was still not much beyond a child.

"Perhaps it would have been better for one of lesser skill to do this," Katsura shook his head, knowing it was far to late for either of them.

*

Battousai continued to walk down the alley and then to the main street, which was empty at this time of the night. He walked unhurriedly passed the closed shops, ignoring the coolness of the night air around him, his senses atuned to to area around him. He wanted no further distractions this night; there was still a great deal of work for him to do. His next target was supposed to be returning from a meeting in about an hour and he had a half hour to get in place and prepare.

The black envelopes of his calling were coming in greater frequecy now and contained more names then they had previously. When he had first started, he would receive maybe one envelope in two weeks time and the paper inside would contain one name. Now he went out on his business almost nightly and often killed five or six men plus their guards. His importance to the cause had grown threefold and his status as a hitokiri had increased tenfold. He was even being credited with kills not his own. 

Battousai smirked mirthlessly and took a little comfort in the fact that though his name was public knowledge now, his identity remained a mystery. The people of Kyoto talked, whispering his name with fear never knowing the object of their fears, the very person they spoke of, was sometimes in their midst, listening to them. He didn't mind the talk as long as his identitiy remained secret.

He ducked into another narrow alley, using it as a shortcut to his destination, and arrived there with time to spare. He selected a shadowed corner on which to hide and waited. It wasn't too much later that his target arrived on the scene. Battousai crept farther back into the shadows and waited until the men had passed so that he could get a count. There were five men plus the one he was assigned to kill. A cold smile crept onto his face as he slipped out behind them and called out...

*

He stood, staring for a moment at his work. The walls and ground were covered with blood but none of it was his. Only the blood of the foolish was spilled here. These men had been foolish enough to draw the battle out. A cold smile lurked in the corners of his his mouth but his eyes were sad.

"Five lives needlessly wasted and for what?" He muttered and looked up at the sky, his hair fluttering out behind him. 

Then he began walking. How long he walked, he wasn't sure but he stopped when he found himself crossing a bridge over one of Kyoto's rivers. He paused on the other side and walked across the moon dappled grass to stand by the water's edge. He stared into the water, then up at the sky and back to the water. The face that looked back up at him from the water was becoming one he did not recognise. The eyes were flat, cold and dead, his mouth seemed to be set in a permentant snarl and the hair, which used to remind him of a sunset, now seemed to be as blood. He was no longer sure who he was: Himura Kenshin or the Hitokiri Battousai.

He covered his eyes with his hands to block out the sight of his cold visage and dropped to his knees in the grass with his head bowed. 

"Kamisama what am I becoming? I don't feel anything anymore." He looked at his hands and clenched them into fists. "Everyday I slip further away...everyday its harder coming back to myself."

He sat motionless there for sometime trying to find some shred of feeling, some emotion within himself bit there was nothing.

"It's so cold here," he muttered as he wrapped his arms around himself and laid his head on his knees. "Shisho, why didn't I listen to you. You tried to warn me but..."

He tried to muster the ablility to cry but tears would not come. He tried to get angry but all he felt was a numbing cold. He shivered and stared across the river at the city but saw none of it. He longed to run away from it all, to leave Kyoto and the name of Hitokiri Battousai behind him but he knew that it was impossible.

"I will never be free of this. Never." He looked at his hands and saw them stained with blood. "I cannot ever go back."


	9. Chapter Eight

Tales of the Mitsurgi Dragon: Shadow of Shadows

By: Hitokiri Gentatsu

A/N: Gomen for being so late with this part but 'Real Life' took control of most of my writing/typing time. *Grrrr* Anyway here is Chapter Eight of this story. Please feel free to review after your done. Arigatou. :P

Chapter Eight: Interlude

"My sword is guided by the teachings of Hiten Mitsurugi. Yet, many times, I cannot use it to save even one person's life; not one living soul."

Hiko Seijuro

Tsuioku Hen

Iizuka followed Himura down the crowded Kyoto street. It was market day and, despite the war, or maybe because of it, the shopkeepers and artisans hawked their wares with enthusiasm. Iizuka ignored there calls, though his stomach growled with hunger, concentrating instead on following the young swordsman. He was only barely able to keep up with Himura at all and twice now he already lost him query, as the shorter and more agile man slipped through the crowd.

Himura disappeared again and Iizuka's eyes narrowed, frustration clearly written on his features. Katsura had sent him to find the young hitokiri and, what's more, Iizuka's other associate were waiting for his report. He knew he must hurry if he wanted to reach their meeting in time. His 'associates' were not ones to be kept waiting and he didn't wish to find himself on the wrong end of their katana. Shaking his head he scanned the crowd for Himura but could not find him. Then in the distance there was a flash of red and Iizuka smiled and cunning smile as he tried once more to catch up with the hitokiri.

As he watched the red-haired swordsman move effortlessly through a group of children, he wondered about the dangerous situation he now found himself in now that he was trying to play both sides of the fence. He knew that if the Shogun's associates ever found out how little he was telling them, they would not hesitate to kill him. He also knew that Katsura who turn Himura on him if he ever got wind of how much Ishin business he had already told to the Shogunate officials. It was not the best position to be in but Iizuka was willing to risk it. He couldn't see how the Ishinshishi could possibly hold out against the full might of the Shogun's army should it ever be employed. One man, no matter how skilled with a sword, could make a difference against the power of the Shogun's army. 

His involvement with the Shogunate had started out as a game, a way for the Ishin forces to know what the Shogunate's moves were going to be. Katsura had asked Iizuka to infiltrate the Shogunate forces and learn all he could and he had provided bribe money. But his rank was not sufficient to place him in the circles the needed information would come from. For that, he had accepted the Shogunate's offer to spy for them. His job for the last several months had been to report on the movements of various Ishishishi groups in Kyoto but that had all changed.

Now his sole job was to report on the movements of one man; Hitokiri Battousai. They wanted him neutralized as soon as possible and by any means necessary. He was too dangerous a man to allow to remain alive. Iizuka agreed with them and had seen Himura grow ever more dangerous as the months passed. The fact that Himura was a danger even to the Ishin side was the only reason he'd agreed to undertake the assignment, although a large sum of money that he would acquire at the successful completion of his mission had helped. For the moment he was only to report the Battousai's movements to them and nothing more.

Iizuka watched Himura enter a restaurant and followed him. Passing under the overhanging curtains, he entered the darker room, temporarily blinded by the dimness. When his eyes cleared, he found Himura seated at a corner table with a small jar of sake in front of him and a faraway look in his eyes.

"Himura-san…" Iizuka said as he carefully approached the man.

Himura's faraway look disappeared and a mask of cool indifference slipped over his features as his hand went reflectively for his sword.

"Iizuka-san?" Himura's voice was cold and hard, his eyes searching for a black envelope.

"Katsura-san is looking for you." he said quietly as soon as he had gotten to the table. "Come we must go quickly."

The young hitokiri nodded and rose, throwing some coins on the table and leaving the room without a sound. 

*

Battousai's amber eyed gaze narrowed dangerously at the man before him. 

"I will not!" he growled.

Katsura's eyes held Himura's, betraying nothing of the fear that was in his heart. Katsura picked up his cup of tea and took a sip, hoping to calm himself farther before continuing. 

"I only ask that you take a rest, that is all." he said into the cold stillness of the room, eyeing the samurai who sat across from him. 

Battousai glowered at Katsura but when he spoke his tone was one of quiet, albeit cold, respect. "Why?"

"You've been far too visible of late and the agents of the Shogunate are rumored to be searching the city for you." That was stretching to truth a bit but the sanity of the young man before him was more important than the truth at the moment. 

Battousai grimaced and his eyes darted around the room as if seeking spies. Then he lowered his gaze for moment before looking up again, his eyes shift for a moment to violet.

"I will do as you say, Katsura-san." he said quietly, inclining his head before rising silently to his feet.

"Please relax, Himura." Katsura said and the hitokiri nodded before passing ghostlike through the door.

An hour later, Kenshin was still walking the streets, wondering what he should do now that he'd been ordered to rest for a time. His senses took in everything around him but his mind was working on the problem of what he might have done to offend his lord.

"Who could have seen me?" he thought as several children rushed passed him, their high voices carrying through the early spring air.

**No one has seen us.** Battousai muttered darkly. **We are always careful and none live to tell of us.**

Kenshin nodded in agreement. The first rule of a hitokiri was never be seen in the act of killing. Why had Katsura said was 'too visible' then? He pondered the question for several minutes, still walking through the midday crowds. Suddenly he stopped midst ride and his eyes widened as an image flashed across his mind.

"Maybe someone's failed in their job of cleaning-up after me." he thought, seeing again the blood splattered walls from his last assignment.

Battousai's rage uncurled inside him and he felt his face harden, but he clamped down on it. This was not the time or place for Battousai to appear. Only his need to keep his identity a secret held Battousai in check.

**When I find out who it is, they will die.** Battousai's voice was like a cold wind across his soul and Kenshin 

shivered. 

He found himself crossing the same bridge he had a few nights previous and , as he had that night, he walked across the grassy space in the other side to the water's edge. He sat down and folded his arms across his drawn up knees, watching the water sparkle silvery in the sun's light. Battousai's bloody thoughts stilled and his sibilant voice because merely a silent hum in back of his. He let the sound of the water lapping peacefully against the shore relax him. He watched the water rippling for several moment and then closed his eyes, trying to think of nothing but the water. 

A tug on his sleeve snapped him to alertness and he turned to find a girl of perhaps three standing there, her thumb in her mouth. She was staring at him with innocent curiosity and, when he blinked at her, she began to giggle. He smiled faintly and looked around, seeing no one on the river bank but himself and the girl.

"Fire-hair nap.." she lisped and then made a sign with her hands, pantomiming sleep. 

"Hai, a nap." he replied. "Where do you live?"

The girl pointed at one of the houses that occupied the land on this side of the river. Kenshin studied the house and was relieved to find it was not one the was familiar to him.

"Perhaps I should take you home, " he said, rising from his place on the ground. "I am sure that someone is worried about you."

"Onichan comes now." She pointed down the bank and Kenshin saw a boy of about eight walking toward them, a fishing pole over his shoulder and a bucket in his hands. When he saw his sister he began to walk faster.

"Sakura! What were you doing outside?" he looked up at Kenshin and, seeing the swords at his waist, he bowed quickly. "Gomen nasai, sir. I hope she was not bothering you."

Kenshin waved his hand. "No need to worry. She was no trouble."

The boy looked relieved and Kenshin smiled at him. The boy took his sister's hand and the girl giggled again. 

"We must be going, sir. " The two children bowed at him again and he bowed back. 

Kenshin watched the two enter the house Sakura had pointed out to him earlier. Feeling more relaxed then he remembered ever feeling, he made his way back to the inn. 

*

"Let's get some sake, Himura." Iizuka said as he entered Kenshin's rooms without knocking later that night.   


Kenshin jumped to his feet and had his katana drawn, pointing it at Iizuka's heart. Iizuka backed away a step, fear clearly written on his features. Kenshin's eyes widened and he shook his head, quietly resheathing the sword.

"Gomen," he said quietly and Iizuka smiled.

"So how about it, Himura?" Iizuka's dark eyes held his briefly. 

"No!" he answered sharply. 

"Come on. Katsura told you to relax, ne? What could be more relaxing then a night of drinking." 

Kenshin frowned at the mention of Katsura and his current 'orders' but he said nothing. Iizuka stood unmoving in the doorway for a few seconds more and then began to leave.

"Fine, I'll go alone then. Ja ne."

"Wait," Kenshin's voice stopped Iizuka in his tracks. "I will come."

Iizuka smiled and he winked at the hitokiri. "That's more like it."

Kenshin frowned again but slide his katana and wakazashi into his belt and followed Iizuka out into the dark coolness of the night.

*

The moon shone brightly, bathing the street outside in silver and the restaurant where Kenshin sat was nearly empty of people. He picked at the remains of the dinner in front of him, having no stomach for the food and even less for the remaining sake in his cup. Iizuka had left a half an hour ago, in good spirits from the amount of sake he had imbibed. He was off to visit the pleasure quarter and had invited Kenshin along but Kenshin was not in the mood for such sport; truth be told, he was never in that kind of mood. 

He pushed the food around on his plate for a few moment more before pushing the plate away. He dropped a few coins on the table and the walked into the silvery night. He wandered the shadowy streets of Kyoto aimlessly; having nothing to do and no place to go but the inn. Battousai's voice echoed in his mind, full of bloodlust and sending shivers down his spine. Battousai's desire to see blood again was strong and his sibilant whispers were urging Kenshin to find someone to kill, anyone.

Kenshin's hands balled into fists as waves of bloodlust washed over him, but he continued to walk away from the main part of the city. He walked on a path that led to the mountains surrounding Kyoto and he sat down, hidden from the path by a thick stand of bamboo. He put his head in shaking hands trying to still the urge to kill that was within him. Everything was falling apart inside him and he could no longer tell who he was. Suddenly he realized he was a danger. 

A twig snapped nearby and, in an instant, Battousai's sword flashed out, slicing through the bamboo, which went crashing around him. His eyes widened and shifted from amber to violet as he stared at the cold steel in his hand. His breathing was rapid and he could feel his heart racing in his chest. He stood there, frozen in place, staring at the glowing silvery blade, his eyes unfocused. Then his sword fell clattering to the ground followed by the young hitokiri, who made no sound.

He lay there, too scared to move and shivered violently, unable to stop himself.

"What have I done?" he whispered as fear of himself snaked through his mind. 

He was hair-trigger and what was worse was the fact that he seemed to be losing himself in the hitokiris madness. The rages of the hitokiri within him had steadily increased and his bloodlust was becoming harder to control. 

"Assassin's never know a long life," he muttered and now he was just beginning to realize why. At the rate he was going he would shortly lose his mind completely.

Maybe that was why Katsura had been so insistent that he take a break from his 'work'. The strain of his constant inner struggle must be showing. He had to regain control of himself somehow. He gritted his teeth and rolled over to look at the sky, which was beginning to grow lighter. He blinked once, twice and then fell asleep.

*

Silence was what jerked him out of a deep and dreamless sleep. He lay where he had fallen and blinked up at the now blue sky above him. He sat up carefully and rubbed the stiffness from his neck, trying to ease the pain in his head from sleeping on the ground unprepared. Kenshin looked around, searching for the source of the silence that has descended around him. There appeared to be nothing, at least nothing he could sense. 

Suddenly there a faint sound sandaled feet and the rasp of a sword leaving it's sheath. Kenshin rose silently to his feet, alert to the danger, and was just about to draw his own katana, when he heard a scream that was abruptly cut off, followed by the sound of running feet headed in his direction. 

For a panicked instant, Kenshin considered fleeing, knowing that the unseen hitokiri would not hesitate to kill him to but before he could make a move, the man burst through the bamboo in front of him, a look of maddened rage in his eyes. The other man stopped and turned his eyes from his flight to Kenshin, a predatory look in is narrowed eyes. 

Kenshin remained frozen in fear as his future seemed to stare back at him from rage filled eyes. The man's clothing was in tatters on his thin body and his burning eyes glared at Kenshin from under tangled hair that was streaked with mud. His face was covered in dust and blood. The katana the man held was covered in the fresh blood of his last victim and crusted with the dried blood of countless others. 

The man let out a grunt and lunged at Kenshin, bloodlust dancing in his eyes. Kenshin moved, barely avoiding the man's swing in his shock. The hitokiri swung at Kenshin again and he dodged again. The man's rage grew as he continued to be unable to hit Kenshin despite the fact that Kenshin had yet to draw his own blade. 

Kenshin body was reacting unconsciously to the man's attempts to attack but his mind seemed to be jammed. He couldn't seem to to do anything except dance away from the other man's sword as fear mounted within him. 

"He could be me in a few months…" that thought remained lodged in his mind as he continued to dance away from the attacks. 

**Be careful!** Battousai's cold voice burst though his mental block. **That man is a danger, not only to us but to others as well. I will…** 

Battousai's thought was cut off by a sudden flare of pain as a sword sliced through his back and shoulder. The world around Kenshin became dim and hazy as Battousai took control.

Battousai glared at the man before him, hoping he would back off for a moment but instead the man charged him, having somehow sensed the change in his ki. The man charged with his sword held high, exposing his chest. He had no change against Battousai , whose sword flashed out and sliced across the man's chest. A crimson arc flew from his sword and the man slumped to the ground, whispering 'arigatou' as he did so. 

For a moment Battousai stood there, staring at the man, as Kenshin's fear sent a shiver down his spine. 

**This could be us in a few months** he thought, as he flung the man's blood from his katana and sheathed it with a trembling hand.

He studied the man at his feet for a moment and gasped in shock. The man's tattered clothing was in every way identical to his own. Battousai stood paralyzed with fear for a moment as all color drained from his face. Then he turned and fled farther into the grove, wanting to put as much distance between himself and the dead man, all the while wondering if that man's fate might someday be his own.


	10. Chapter Nine

Tales of the Mitsurugi Dragon: Shadow of Shadows  
  
By: Hitokiri Gentatsu  
  
A/N: Gomen for the long delay in this story but my writing time has been several hampered by massive training where I work and work on Sakabatou/Zanbatou, which is a Rurouni Kenshin site a friend and I run. Anyway here's chapter nine. Enjoy! H.G.  
  
Chapter Nine: Mount Hiei: The First Time  
  
"At heart I like sword arts but I don't like killing people"  
Battousai   
The wind rushed passed as he ran, making a whistling sound in his ears. But Battousai neither heard nor felt its coolness in his mad, headlong rush to escape the image that were flooding his head after killing the mad hitokiri in the grove. Finally, unable to run any longer, he stood panting and trembling in another clearing near the edge of the forest, his breathing sounding harsh and irregular to his ears.   
  
Suddenly, he fell to his knees, his legs too tired to support his weight any longer. The blade of his katana sunk into the soft earth, and unconsiously he lean his weight against it, trying to still his breathing and to quell the fear in his heart that his soul was lost. His eyes darted around the clearing seeking something but he wasn't sure what, until his eyes finally came to rest on the hilt of the katana he was leaning against.   
  
A low moan escaped him and he jerked his hand away from the hilt as if he'd been burned by it. Battousai moved away from the sword, which remained upright, that was still stained with the blood of the man he had killed. Battousai closed his eyes, trying to shut out the image of the man's mad eyes but he could not. It was as if the image was forever burned into his mind's eye, etched there like some demented dream. But this was no dream.  
  
He moaned again and stood up, running forward again, his eyes still closed. He moved through the last of the screening trees, never realising how close to the edge of the forest he had been. He could feel the sun on his face and he shied away from it, as if it too burned him. He felt a cold wind wrap itself around him and he shivered in the sudden chill. Once more his legs gave out from under him and he opened his eyes in shock. He now icy blue eyes took in the vision before him with disbelief and a little trepidation.   
  
The ground before him was covered in a layer of white flowers that looked almost like snow. They looked so pure and, not wanting his tainted presence to ruin their purity, Battousai began to step back from them.   
  
"There is no need to fear, Shinta. You are welcome here," a soft voice called to him.  
  
"Okasan?" he said, looking around frantically for the source of the familiar voice.  
  
There was nothing. To all appearences he was alone. He bowed his head, his thoughts a confused jumble that swirled incoherantly in his head.   
  
"You seem troubled Shinta. Why?" The voice spoke again but this time Kenshin did not look for its source.  
  
"My life," he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper and his now violet eyes full of tears. "I have done nothing honorable with it."  
  
"Why did you chose to wield a sword?" the voice asked calmly, taking Kenshin completely offguard.  
  
"To protect the lives of the innocent who cannot protect themselves," he answered without hestitation.  
  
"And it was for that reason you came to Kyoto, even against your shisho's wishes."  
  
Kenshin nodded, not trusting his voice to speak and his eyes shut tightly against the memories of things he had seen and done while a hitokiri.  
  
"But all the killing...brings no change...the only change is within me." Battousai opened his amber eyes, tears running down his face. "I'm colder and more cruel then I was before. Please...I don't want to become like that man we killed...I...we want to be free of this life."  
  
Battousai pulled his wakazashi from its sheath, for a moment looking at the silvered blade before positioning it toward himself.  
  
"No, Shinta! Remember your life is not your own. You have to live for all those who died."  
  
"Sakura-san?" The wakazashi fell from his limp hand, clattering to the ground. "But look at what I have become. I'm just a hitokiri."  
  
"No, inside you are still the same boy we knew."  
  
He shook his head, hearing the screams of his victims and the never-ending scream of his own soul.  
  
"Shinta, listen. Your true self has only been hidden away for a time. You must find him again or you will never escape the bloodshed."  
  
"You don't understand, there is no escaping it for me." Battousai's eyes shifted from amber to cold blue.  
  
"Just rest for now, Shinta."   
  
Battousai felt his eyes drop closed and for a moment he fought to remain concious. It was a losing prospect and the overwrought hitokiri decended into slumber.   
  
*  
  
The sun was high in the sky and its warmth on his face and skim woke him out of a deep and sound sleep. For a moment Kenshin blinked in confusion, wondering where he was. Then panic seized his heart and he reached for the katana that was no longer at his side. He looked around carefully, his eyes narrowed in concentration, but he sensed nobody nearby, at least no one Battousai would classify as a threat.  
  
Slowly his heart stopped its rapid beating and his harsh breathing returned to normal. He stood up and looked around him, seeking something half remembered from his dream of the previous day. The white flowers that had seemed so prevelent in his dream where merely scattered though the clearing and a small path meandered its way up the hill.   
  
Kenshin's eyes followed the it winding trail though the mountainside. In the distance he could make out the tori gate of a shrine.   
  
"A shrine here?" he thought to himself as he found his legs had taken over and that he was now walking up the path.  
  
He encounted no one, except small animals during his walk and felt no hostile ki or indeed any ki at all that would indicate the presence of others. After a few moment walk, he shut down the senses he normally used in battle and tried to take in the peaceful surroundings without the cold, calculating portion of his brain interfering. Battousai warned him of the danger of this action in a time of war but for once Kenshin ignored him.   
  
Something about the area was stirring memories inside him, memories of his more peaceful past. There seemed to be something familiar about it, though he was positive he had never set foot along this path before. A faint memory stired, so faint that Kenshin was not sure of its contents. A woman's voice floated in his mind and the deeper rumble of a man's voice answered it. He shook his head to clear it of the voices and looked around again.  
  
He was at the shrine, whose six arches gleamed redly in the sun's light. He appeared to be alone with only the animals and birds to keep him company in his enforced solitude. He sat down under a tree and closed his eyes, letting the songs of birds wash over him, seeking the peace that those birds represented and that he craved to return to without realising he did so.  
  
But even in such quiet and peaceful surroundings, Kenshin could find no solace. Behind his closed eyes he saw again the faces of all those he had killed and his ears still heard their dying words. He could hear his own cold voice utter the word 'Tenchuu' and he could smell the blood that dripped from his katana and stained the streets around him crimson. His body shuddered as the image of the man in the bamboo grove came to the fore and he felt Battousai wail inside him, wanting to be released. Tears fell from his closed eyes and he once more fell into an exhausted slumber.  
  
*  
  
Several weeks passed without any word from Katsura or Iizuka and every day would find Kenshin near the shrine at Mount Hiei, trying to find his true self again before he slipped forever into the murderous ways of a hitokiri. Sometimes he would be gone for days at a time but he was always careful to tell the innkeep where he went on the off chance that he was needed.   
  
Slowly his mind became a bit more balanced and calm in his peaceful surroundings and he was able to hold the bloodlust of Battousai in check but the killer's cold, murderous voice was still present, whispering in the back of his mind like a cold wind. Kenshin knew it was too late to completely free himself from the rage of the hitokiri but he thought the could at least control it now, instead of it controling him.   
  
His first test came two nights later. He'd been a month without an assignment when Iizuka appeared at the base of Mount Hiei at dusk, a smirk on his face and a black envelope in hand. At the sight of it, Kenshin could feel his heart beating faster inside him and he heard a cold voice in his head rejoicing at the thought of the bloody rain that would fall this night.  
  
"I have come with orders from Katsura-san. You are to return to duty tonight." Iizuka's eyes narrowed, a strange glint coming to them. "I hope you have not let your skills diminish during this passed month."  
  
Kenshin's eyes narrowed and an amber glint came to them. "I have not."  
  
The cold voice of Hitokiri Battousai washed over Iizuka and he surpressed a shiver. He handed the hitokiri the black envelope without betraying his fear or his concern that Battousai might see through his little ruse. Battousai took the envelope, placing it in his sleeve without looking at it and began to walk back toward Kyoto. He stopped for a moment and cast a look over his shoulder at Iizuka, his visible eyes seeming to glow for an instant.   
  
"It will be done," he said softly as a breeze came up suddenly, whipping his blood red hair wildly around his face.  
  
Battousai disappeared into the darkening night and Iizuka shivered in the sudden chill air. He smiled. Soon this farce would be over. The trap had been set and Battousai could do nothing but fall into it. He would be dead before morning and Iizuka would be a rich man. 


End file.
